


Purrfect Match

by InterruptingDinosaur



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bucky deals with PTSD, F/M, Slow Build, The cats are both amusing and annoying, Tony and Darcy are bros
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-03-01 06:45:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2763545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterruptingDinosaur/pseuds/InterruptingDinosaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Bucky, unsure of what to do with eight pounds of pissed-off cat, petted the cat with his other hand to try to calm it. In moments, the cat had at least stopped furiously wriggling, and was, instead, flopped lazily in his arms. A few more strokes in the right direction, and a rumbling sound emerged from the ferocious beast. </i> </p><p>---</p><p>The true story of how Darcy wishes she could learn to keep her mouth shut, has an over-friendly cat, and is definitely not mooning over a guy she knocked into. </p><p>Bucky, on the other hand, is an anti-social grump, adopts an equally grumpy cat during a moment of weakness, and is so not in denial about pining over a girl he accidentally ran into. </p><p>Now if only their friends would stop trying to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A loud slam of the door indicated that Darcy was home. Jane, who was sitting at the kitchen table of their shared apartment, winced and counted silently to three in her head before asking, “date not go so well?”

“It was a fucking disaster. You were right.” Darcy appeared in the doorway, bare-footed and in the process of taking out the gorgeous, new earrings that she’d bought to match her dress, which was now stained in the front. “The first sign was when the jerk couldn’t even bother to raise his eyes a few inches from my chest to my face. I mean, I know the girls are awesome, but it’s the effort, you know?”

Jane raised an eyebrow and tried very hard to not say _I told you so_ when a, “meow” interrupted them as a mass of grey fur entered the room and started to wind itself around Darcy’s legs. Picking up the affectionate cat, Darcy sighed and collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs before slumping over the table and over the mess of papers that Jane had spread out. “I don’t know why I even bother trying anymore. I should give up now and become The Crazy Cat Lady.”

Jane sighed, but couldn’t help but agree that Darcy had abysmal tastes when it came to men; she just seemed to attract all the assholes within a ten-mile radius of New York. Apparently, Jane was not going to get anymore work done tonight when her friend was moaning about her love life… or rather, lack of. Shutting the lid to her laptop, she said softly, “you know what will make you feel better?”

“Twenty more cats and the last three hours of my life back?”

Jane frowned. “If you get any more cats, I’m leaving you.”

“We could have an army of cats, Jane! We could start a dictatorship.”

Jane pursed her lips. “I don’t know how I would handle a militia of cats when your one cat and I barely get along.”

“Oh come on, you love my cat.” Darcy lifted one of his paws toward Jane in a bid to win her over. “Your boyfriend loves my cat.”

“I would leave Thor too if he tried to adopt twenty cats.

“No, you wouldn’t. Even if Thor had a hundred cats, you wouldn’t leave him. Not with those abs.”

“Darcy!”

“I’m not trying to poach or anything, Boss Lady,” Darcy defended, her former nickname for Jane slipping out. “I’m just stating a fact. Thor’s got great abs. Also you love him and all that mushy stuff. You two are great together.”

Jane patted Darcy’s leg reassuringly. “We’re good together too.”

“Yeah, but not in that way.” Darcy blew out a breath. “But it’s still nice to know that you love us, no matter how dysfunctional and unlovable we are.”

“Atticus has his moments.” Jane eyed the tabby cat that was, currently, the very picture of docility and feline innocence. Clearly, he had forgotten the incident last week when a pile of dead insects had been left outside of Jane’s bedroom door by a certain cat-who-shall-not-be-named.

“Catticus Finch is the cat equivalent of a saint,” Darcy replied with mock outrage. “You’re a very good cat, aren’t you?” This last bit was directed to Atticus, who dutifully meowed in response. “You’d never stare at my boobs the whole dinner and then accidentally-on-purpose spill wine on me so you could feel me up.”

Well, that explained the stain on the dress that Darcy painstakingly picked out. Jane grabbed a bottle of wine that they kept stashed in the top cupboard for emergencies like this one. “Come on, cheer up. Just make sure the next guy is less smarmy and handsy.” Darcy groaned, but simply motioned for her friend to fill up the wine glass until it was almost overflowing.

She hoped Jane was right. Darcy had had nothing but a string of bad dates and losers for the past year, ever since she’s broken up with Ian, not that Ian was anything special worth pining over. It was a good thing that she had Jane there at the end of the evening to get drunk with and laugh with her while she recounted every horrific detail of the date from hell.

Darcy had first met Dr. Jane Foster, Astrophysicist and Science Queen of the Science Geeks, when she’d worked as her intern during her last semester of university. Ever since then, the two women had become fast friends and when Jane got a job opportunity in New York, Darcy (and Atticus) came with her. They lived together, but they no longer worked together, thank God. Darcy loved Jane, but she could only handle science-mode Jane for so long.

Darcy loved New York, and she was happy with her job at Stark Industries, but since Jane literally hit the jackpot that was Thor Odinson two years ago, Darcy started to notice how lonely she was. It wasn’t like she didn’t have friends, but it was a different kind of loneliness that really bit when she was constantly the third wheel to Jane and Thor. It would just be nice to have someone be there for her who was more than a friend.

 

\---

 

Bucky Barnes really did not have time for this.

“Come out!” he called, but there was nothing but silence. “I will find you,” he threatened. He looked under the bed, but there was nothing there except a few dust bunnies. He checked behind the curtains next, but was equally disappointed.

Bucky realized that if he was going to do this right, he was going to have to resort to drastic measures, which explained why Steve found him a few minutes later, crawling on his hands and knees, and shaking a bag of kitty treats. “Lost something?” Steve asked amusedly.

Bucky inwardly groaned; he didn’t have time for Steve either. So, instead, he grumbled something incoherent, but didn’t look up, continuing to scan the living room for possible hiding places he hadn’t searched yet. He was already late for the vet appointment, and if he didn’t find that damn cat soon, there was going to be problem. No—scratch that—he already had a problem.

“Gotcha!” A streak of black attempted to run out from behind the TV stand and make her glorious escape, but Bucky was faster, scooping up the cat with one arm. “Not this time!”

“How does she even know where we’re taking her?” Steve asked, shaking his head. “She hides every time we have to take her for check-ups.”

“I guess she’s just smart like that,” Bucky smiled proudly, but also wishing his cat was dumber so that he wouldn’t have play hide-and-seek every time he needed to take her somewhere. The cat struggled, her three remaining legs thrashing futilely against the shiny metal of Bucky’s arm before finally giving up with a disgruntled yowl. “I know, I know, Winter,” he said. “I don’t like it anymore than you do, but you need to get checked up.”

He ducked his head, depositing Winter into the carrier and making sure the door was closed properly. Winter put her paw out in a last desperate plea, trying to appeal to their mercy, to save her from the impending doom of the veterinarian. Steve, thankfully, didn’t comment on Bucky’s conversation with the cat, and grabbed his keys out of the bowl as they left the apartment.

During the car ride, Bucky absent-mindedly tapped his fingers of his artificial hand against his thigh, trying not to seem too jumpy. They kept their conversation light, mostly bland comments about mutual friends and Steve’s work, occasionally being punctuated by Winter’s meows, reminding them that she knew where they were going and that she was not happy.

As they passed a restaurant that had once been a dance studio years ago, Bucky marveled at how fast everything around him was changing. When he came home from the army a year ago, he’d barely recognized that neighbourhood he had grown up in.

_Home_.

The word was still strange in Bucky’s mind. Home didn’t really feel like home anymore. After giving years of his life to military service, fighting the good fight, he’d forgotten what home was like anymore. And when life ultimately took his left arm and the army sent him packing his bags, he’d lost hope of home. Steve had offered him a place to stay, a small, two-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, and even though Bucky hated to rely on anyone, he didn’t have much of a choice.

Returning back was surreal to Bucky. The city was dirtier than he remembered; the sounds and colours were sharper too. His therapist had reassured him that the stimulus would soften over time, and that he would be less triggered by the everyday occurrences. She was partially right, but New York still had that edge to it that chafed at him. Some nights, the nightmares felt so tangible that the screams and gunshots would still ring in his ears long after he’d woken up, drenched in sweat and guilt.

He hated to admit anything was wrong to Steve because he knew that Steve would just worry about it and that made Bucky feel even guiltier. But Steve, a veteran himself, knew already, even if he didn’t say anything outright. Instead, he was careful not to push too hard, but he did try to drag Bucky out of the apartment and introduce him to people once in a while.

Sam Wilson was one of those new people; he was also a counselor which, Bucky suspected, was not a coincidence. Steve’s less-than-subtle message of _if you won’t talk to me, at least talk to this guy because he actually knows what he’s doing_ was heard loud and clear. Bucky liked Sam well enough, possibly the one he liked the most out of all the people that Steve had thrown Bucky’s direction. He had an easy-going personality, but also because Sam was the one who had gotten Bucky signed up for a Stark, cutting-edge-technology, prosthetic arm. Bucky hadn’t been exactly been delighted to learn that it was technically still an experimental procedure, but he figured that having a metal arm was better than having no arm at all.

It was also Sam who, while having a round of beers one night, suggested something about how one of his former-soldier buddies from the VA, who’d been having a hard time adjusting, had gotten a dog and they were getting along amazingly. This launched into a discussion between Steve and Sam about the benefits of having a therapy-trained service animal versus an average pet.

Whether Sam and Steve had planned to have that conversation in front of Bucky, or Sam had brought it up on his own, Bucky wasn’t sure. Whatever the reason though, the idea had stuck in Steve’s mind because he hesitantly brought it up again two weeks later. Bucky could tell that his best friend was keen about the idea of getting a dog, but was considerate of Bucky, who was still having nightmares and could be triggered back into soldier-mode by anything from an unexpected noise to a flash of light. But, Bucky already owed Steve so much that he really couldn’t bring himself to say no to him.

And that was how Bucky found himself dragged to an animal shelter one Saturday morning, helping Steve look for “their” new pet. Bucky tried to feign some enthusiasm for Steve’s sake, but it was depressing; animals of all sizes and breeds were in their own enclosures. Some leapt up on the chain doors in excitement when they passed through, and some remained asleep or unaffected by the presence of new visitors. He hated the small space of the narrow hallway, and with each passing moment, he was starting to feel more and more claustrophobic. Steve was bent down to be eye-level with a particularly excited mutt that had a tongue lolling out. “How about this guy? He seems nice,”

Bucky barely heard him. “Sure, he’s great. I’m just going to wait outside.” Without waiting for his friend’s reaction, Bucky fled. On a plastic chair in the lobby, he took a few deep breaths trying to regain stability to his frayed nerves.

Steve came out too, looking concerned. “We don’t have to do this,” he said before Bucky could offer an explanation for his sudden dash. “Let’s go for lunch instead.”

“I’m fine,” he ground out. “Go back in there and get the dog you wanted.”

“Bucky—”

“Look, I’m okay with a pet, really, but it’s your dog, Steve. Not our dog! I can barely take care of myself! I mean, I wake up some days thinking I’m still in the middle of the fucking war zone.” Bucky realized he had escalated total shouting by this point, but he couldn’t stop his bitterness from spilling out. “I’m not going to be able to take care of anything without accidentally killing it!”

They were both awkwardly silent. The lobby was thankfully empty, the young woman who usually sat at the front desk, had escaped for a convenient “coffee break”. “It’s not your fault. You’ll adjust but you just need to give it time,” Steve quietly murmured.

All the gut-wrenching and burning emotions of guilt suddenly came rushing over Bucky as he remembered that Steve had been through it all too. Steve wasn’t just another civilian. Steve had been by Bucky’s side since they were kids. Steve had done tours in Afghanistan, fought for his country too, seen war and blood too. “But what if it doesn’t?” Bucky asks brokenly. “What if I’m so fucked up that I’m beyond help?”

Steve, looking helpless and defeated over his inability to help his best friend, opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, someone from the back of the shelter cried, “she’s loose again! Catch her!” A black, furry something dashed out, quickly maneuvering around obstacles and running right over Bucky’s feet. Instinctively, he scooped it up before realizing what it actually was.

“Oh my god! I am so sorry.” One of the animal shelter employees appeared, looking harried. “Thank you for grabbing her. She dashed out as soon as I cracked open the door.” Then, rolling her eyes, “unfortunately, it’s not the first prison break attempt, but this is a new record for how far she got this time.” The girl’s eyes widened in interest as she suddenly realized his left arm wasn’t real, but didn’t comment because she was interrupted. The fugitive he held on to let out a confused and affronted wail when Bucky was not reacting in the usually manner one usually has when one is having an arm shredded to pieces. Her claws skated uselessly over the metal.

Skye, as her nametag read, gingerly reached out to take the cat from Bucky, but pulled back when an angry paw was swiped in her direction. “She’s not very friendly, as you can see.”

“She’s missing a leg,” Bucky observed as he shifted so that his arm could hold the cat better. “What happened?”

“She was a stray and had an infection in her leg. By the time she got here, we couldn’t save it. She moves pretty fast on three legs though, even if she has some trouble jumping.” Skye reached for the three-legged terror again, and got the same hostile reaction.

Bucky, unsure of what to do with eight pounds of pissed-off cat, petted the cat with his other hand to try to calm it. In moments, the cat had at least stopped furiously wriggling, and was, instead, flopped lazily in his arms. A few more strokes in the right direction, and a rumbling sound emerged from the ferocious beast.

“Holy Cat Whisperer! She’s… purring?” Skye said incredulously. “Phil, you’ve got to come look at this!” she called.

A mild-looking man appeared. “What is it?” Then, seeing the phenomenon in front of him, he exclaimed, “Is Vicious purring?”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “The cat’s name is Vicious?”

“Technically, her name is 'Vicious the Blood Thirsty and Lord Destroyer', but Vicious is a lot shorter,” Skye explained whilst simultaneously appreciatively eyeing Steve.

Phil intervened. “She didn’t have a name for a while. We didn’t mean to call her that, but the name just stuck,” he explained, giving Skye a sharp look. “My employees seem to gravitate towards creative and unusual names.”

“It’s not unusual when it comes to Vicious,” Skye said pointedly. “Until today, she’s earned her name, title, and all the badges that go along with it. She never lets anyone touch her and I’ve never heard her purr… ever.”

“You always had a way with the ladies,” Steve muttered under his breath, only loud enough for Bucky to hear. Bucky gave a wry smile but chose not to comment.

“She’s not our most popular cat, I’m afraid. Most people and animals are scared of her.” Phil gave a nervous laugh. “When she was brought to the shelter, we weren’t sure she was going to make it, even with the amputation. She might be a bit crabby, but I have to hand it to her for not giving up. In her case, ‘Vicious’ is compliment.”

“And besides, if you think that’s bad, you haven’t met ‘The Good King Snugglewumps’ yet, and I wasn’t the one who named him,” Skye added with a smirk.

Steve and Bucky were unsure of how to respond, but thankfully, Phil rolled his eyes and said, “we’ve taken up enough of your time already. I’ll get her off your hands now.” It wasn’t clear whether he meant the cat or Skye. There was an awkward pause before he reached for the cat.

As soon as Vicious felt herself being passed over to someone new, she started thrashing again, but Phil, with a deft maneuver worthy of martial arts masters, avoided her sharp claws and held her firmly so that she couldn’t hurt anyone. He nodded once at the two soldiers and disappeared through the back doors.

“Yeah, Phil Coulson’s got cat-wrangling, ninja skills,” Skye said enviously. “He’s the Steve Irwin of domestic animals.”

Bucky only half paid attention; he suddenly felt even more dejected than before. He thought it might be a reaction to body warmth from the little furry creature that made him notice the loss of it afterwards, but as he and Steve exited the shelter, the feeling trickled down into his chest and sat heavy there.

 

\---

 

The feeling continued to stay as he continued to tell himself that he really did not have the time or disposition to have any sort of pet. He must have tried too hard to convince himself because Steve finally put down the paper one morning with a sigh and one of those sad looks in his eyes. “You do realize this is…” he took out the small notebook that he always carried around with him. “…the fourteenth time you’ve mentioned that cat in the last two days?”

“What cat? I just said that if we had a cat, not any specific cat, that there would probably be hair everywhere from the shedding. It would be more work than usual to keep the place clean.”

“Bucky, we can go back and get that cat, if you want.”

“I never said anything about getting a cat,” he said defensively.

“Alright,” Steve said skeptically. He turned back to his paper and pretended to read it.

“I thought you wanted a dog?”

“I changed my mind about the dog. I think a cat would go better décor.”

Bucky snorted. “I had no idea you were Martha Stewart.”

“I’m better than Martha Stewart,” Steve scoffed. He waited minute before casually throwing out, “you know, it’s really too bad about Vicious.

Bucky took the bait. “Why’s that?”

“Most people don’t like aggressive cats, so I would imagine she would have a hard time getting adopted.

There was a pause. “I know what you’re doing and it’s not going to work.”

“She’s probably been there for months, watching all the other cats get picked out by loving families… day after day.” Steve realized he was probably laying it on a bit thick there, but he could tell Bucky was closing to breaking. If this didn’t change his mind, then maybe it was time for a movie night featuring _Oliver and Company_. “She’s all alone.” Steve’s mouth quirked up in a small grin that he couldn’t hide. He was enjoying this more than he should.

Bucky scowled, but finally said, “I’ll think about it.”

 

\---

 

The next day, the fiercest three-legged cat on the east coast was asleep on Bucky’s lap as they drove home.

They had driven back the shelter early in the morning, and waited impatiently for twenty minutes for the shelter to open. Phil and his employees got over their shock pretty quickly when they heard that Bucky wanted to adopt Vicious, realizing that someone was going to take a chance on the little hell-raiser.

A young woman with a cheerful smile and a British accent assisted them through the process. “It’s not that we don’t have a soft spot for her. We really do. I think Phil would take her home if he didn’t already have five cats himself,” Jemma babbled as she filled in the tedious paperwork. “We already knew that it would be hard to get her adopted out. It’s just that she’s so cantankerous and difficult to take care of. Poor Fitz still has scratches all over his arms, and he’s only handled her once.” She shook her head. “But, I think she just needs someone to get past all that grumpiness and claws first before they can really learn to love her.” She beamed at Bucky and handed him a pen to sign his name. “I think you’ll be good for each other.”

Before they left, Skye had sidled up to them. “FYI, as soon as you walk out that door, you’re obligated to love her. That means you can’t bring her back.”

“Okay,” Bucky said slowly, but then reassured her. “That won’t be a problem.” At least, he hoped it wouldn’t be. He still had mixed feelings about this whole adoption thing, but his therapist suggested, over the phone, that having a pet might help him connect better with reality and civilian life and that he wouldn’t know unless he tried it.

Skye grinned widely at him before giving a dead-serious impression. “No, but seriously though. _Ohana_ means family and family means no one gets left behind or forgotten.”

“Skye!” Coulson barked; apparently, along with cat-whispering, Coulson’s superpowers also extended to super-hearing.

“Oops,” she said guiltily, ducking her head and giving her pissed-off boss a sheepish look before dashing back to whatever she was doing before.

Vicious, luckily, seemed to remember Bucky from before because she only put up a half-hearted fight when she was handed over to him. After some scratching behind her ears, she was quite content to flop in arms and only bare her teeth at Steve twice.

“We’re going to have to change her name,” Bucky declared as he stared down at the pile of fur that was currently enjoying the sunlight through the glass window of the car.

“What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know. Not ‘Vicious the Blood Thirsty and Lord Destroyer’, though, even if it does have a nice ring to it.”

“Fluffy. Midnight. Sparky. Licorice. Shadow. Snowball. Spot. Bucky Junior,” Steve listed.

“Ugh, those are terrible names.” Bucky wrinkled his nose. “If that’s your idea of good names, I hope no one ever gives you full responsibility in naming a child. You would scar that kid for life.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a jerk?”

“Just this one particular punk,” Bucky replied, a grin blooming over his face.

They were quiet the rest the ride. It wasn’t until they were almost home that Bucky said with determination, “Winter.” Her ear twitched, the only acknowledgement of her name change.

“Welcome home, Winter.”

 

\---

 

“What the hell is wrong with the men of New York?” Darcy yelled in frustration, slamming the front door behind her. Atticus ran from his perch on the window over to Darcy in greeting. He wound himself around her legs in a figure-eight routine a few times before tipping his head up at her. Picking up the cat, Darcy gave him a hug, burrowing the side of her face into his soft fur and trying to suppress the urge to give into the stress of everything and just fucking bawl her eyes out.

Jane appeared out of her bedroom, surprising Darcy. “Oh, I thought you were out with Thor tonight.”

Jane waved her hand noncommittally. “He had a family emergency, something about his brother.” Then, seeing Darcy’s traitorous eyes, her voice softened, “do you want to talk about it?”

“No. Not sober, anyways.”

“I’ll get the wine. Put the cat down and get changed.”

Hours later, Darcy was feeling infinitely better, but it may have had something to do with the many glasses of wine she’d consumed. She and Jane were sprawled on the couch, talking about the most recent date. “And the worst part is,” she sighed, “he hates cats.”

“No!” Jane gasped dramatically for Darcy’s benefit. “That fucker.”

“I know, right?” Draining the last of her wine, Darcy slammed the glass on the coffee table, causing Atticus to jump and hiss. “That’s it! I am done with men. I might as well hang a sign on these lady parts saying ‘closed forever’ because it’s never gonna happen,” she slurred.

“That’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it Maybe you haven’t been looking in the right places. I found Thor when I was least expecting it—”

“You actually hit Thor with your car! That’s a bit unrealistic. I can’t suddenly start running people down because a) I don’t even have a car, and b) I can’t go to prison for vehicular manslaughter, Jane. I don’t have the temperament for it!” Then, lowering her voice, she whispered, “if someone touches me, I will cut them.”

Jane rolled her eyes. “Now, you really are being a drama queen.”

“Can’t help it,” Darcy spread her arms. “I missed my calling. I should have been an actress. Maybe then, I would be dating Channing Tatum.” After a brief pause, she added, “or, Josh Groban. He’s cute and he sings.”

“Have you thought about online dating, though? I know someone from work who did that and they’re getting married next summer.”

Darcy laughed, “yeah, like I haven’t met enough creeps in real life already. Now I have to find them online.” But Jane already had that mad-scientist look in her eyes as she opened her laptop and began typing. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“I’m solving your problems.”

“Nooooo. Jane!” Darcy made grabby hands at her as she tried to reach over.

“Hands off my computer, Lewis!” she warned.

“Well, at least let me see what awful things you’re doing in my name.” Jane shifted so that Darcy could see the screen. As it turns out Googling “online dating” returns 142 million results, and some of them were geared towards some very specific interests and hobbies. “I hate all these sites,” Darcy frowned. Atticus had, at this point, jumped up on the couch and was demanding attention from her. Distractedly, she petted him while still looking at the computer screen. “Holy shit! There’s an actual dating site for clowns? That is it. No online dating for Darcy.”

Jane rolled her eyes. “We’re obviously not signing up for that one, but you’ve got to keep an open mind. Look, what about this one?”

“Nuh-uh. I’m sticking to my cat, and that’s about as open as my mind can get right now. You can’t convince me otherwise, Science Lady.” Still curled up in Darcy’s lap, he purred when she scratched just the right spot behind his ears.

Sighing tiredly, Darcy stood up. “I’m going to bed now, but thanks for trying anyways.” She saluted Jane cheekily before going into her bedroom and changing into her comfiest pajamas that were decorated with cartoon sheep.

Settling into her bed and pressing the coolness of the pillow to face, there was faint shuffling sound as Atticus leapt around the bed, chasing a shadow that had caught his attention. Finally, he tired himself out before settling beside Darcy, rolling over and happily let his tummy be rubbed. Sometimes, she wished her life could be as simple and content as a cat’s. His soft purrs relaxed Darcy as she slowly drifted off to sleep.

 

\---

 

Clint Barton, another one of Steve’s many friends, was a mouthy blonde whose sarcasm and candor Bucky appreciated, but he also had a tendency to show up and flop on Steve’s couch and eat their leftovers after a long day of teaching.

“Remind me again why you can’t go back to your own apartment?”

“Because you would miss my cozy company,” Clint said cheekily, handing Bucky a bottle of beer before opening his own. “And also because Tasha isn’t back until Thursday and I really didn’t feel like being alone there.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything but he understood the need to not be alone for a while. Clint was over often, but the frequency of his visits increased when his girlfriend, Natasha, who was a multilingual translator for various international embassies, was out of the country. Sometimes, Steve would join them in the evenings to watch terrible movies and eat take-out.

Tonight was one of those particular nights, but sans Steve since he was working later, where Bucky and Clint were on opposite ends of the couch, watching reruns of some comedy show with a mildly irritating laugh track. Clint had a stack of report cards on the floor in front of him that he was trying to finish so that he could have the weekend to do what he wanted, only half paying attention to the hilarious antics of the characters on the TV. However, when he absent-mindedly reached for his container of Chinese food, he found it was empty. “Your cat just ate my pork,” he grumbled darkly.

Bucky passed him his own container of half-eaten shrimp lo mein. “You can have the rest of this.” Winter was hiding under couch, waiting for Clint’s reaction to the stolen meal, and when Clint shrugged and started eating the noodles instead, she emerged and kneaded Bucky’s leg. Picking her up, he placed her in the middle of the couch where she curled up, but kept a sharp eye on Clint, or more specifically, the food.

“No, you already ate my koo loo pork,” he warned. Then, to Bucky, he said, “your cat is the worst.”

Bucky laughed, “she acts like we never feed her.” He scratched her behind her ears with his left hand, the metal plates making a very faint swishing sound as they moved in tandem against each other. She started purring contentedly.

Four months ago, when they’d first brought Winter home, Bucky had been hesitant, unsure of how she or Steve and himself to adapt. Winter, when introduced to her new living arrangement, had regarded everything suspiciously, as if it was a trap. She walked with a shuffling limp from room to room, sniffing each new unfamiliar thing.

Having absolutely no knowledge of cats, Bucky had gone to the library and checked out a stack of books on caring for pets. The librarian, who had helped him, was a towering, terrifying man with an eye-patch and an intimidating glare that promised that there would be no overdue fines if you wanted to survive to see the next day. However, pants-shitting glower aside, he was surprisingly very helpful and even printed out a list of human foods that were poisonous for cats before giving several personal suggestions of brands of cat food. The books were informative, but they also scared Bucky with all the different things that could go wrong in cats. Steve had just called Bucky a mother-hen when Bucky had tried to explain cat depression to him, and reassured him that Winter definitely did not have cat depression.

Bucky initially set up her new bed in the kitchen, deciding that sleeping in the same room as a cat might not be safe in case he had one of his night terrors. He hadn’t been exaggerating when he told Steve that he was afraid that he might accidentally kill their pet. However, at night, she refused to sleep in the cat bed, and howled outside of Bucky’s door until he let her in. After a couple of restless nights, Bucky finally gave up and let Winter sleep in his room. She started out sleeping in one corner for a couple of weeks, but then moved to the foot of the bed on the floor, then to beside the bed, until she finally decided that she would conquer and claim the pillow on the right side of the bed, but only if Bucky picked her up each night. She still had some trouble jumping onto high surfaces with her missing front leg.

At night, having Winter’s quiet breathing gave Bucky’s often-wandering mind something to focus on as it lulled him to sleep. The nightmares didn’t stop, but with each passing day and with help from his therapist and his friends, he felt like he was slowly leaving it behind him. The first time he had a nightmare since he’d gotten Winter, he’d woken up with breathless gasps and his heart racing. The cat, on the floor beside him, at the time, had sleepily meowed at him to shut up before going back to sleep. Usually, Bucky would be shaky and tense for the rest of the night after an episode like that, but after washing his face and getting a drink, he’d lain back in his bed, he concentrated on Winter’s soft inhalation and exhalation that reminded him that he wasn’t so alone.

Bucky wasn’t the only one who was slowing changing; Winter hadn’t totally stopped hissing and snapping at people, but her social skills were slowly improving. She liked being petted by Bucky and sometimes sat on his lap, demanding rubs and refusing to leave until she got them. She tolerated Steve, but only if he gave her a three-feet bubble of personal space at all times. At first, she would run away and hide whenever strangers were in the apartment, but lately, she had enough courage to come out and coldly regard new visitors with the same manner of a queen who deigned to look at the peasants. Sam, wisely, also gave Winter a respectful distance, and she returned the favour by doing same for him. Clint, on the other hand, was delighted that there was a new cat, and suffered scratches for his over-eagerness in trying to befriend her, but he eventually won her over by bribing her with expensive cat food and leftovers from take-out that were safe for her to eat.

“You’re spoiling my cat,” Bucky complained as Clint had held out a shrimp and lured Winter over to his side of the couch.

“He’s just jealous,” Clint said to Winter as she let him pat her head. As soon as she was finished the shrimp, she smacked her jaws in delight, and seeing that Clint did not offer more, she wandered back to Bucky. “Traitor,” Clint grumbled, “see if I feed you again.” He turned back to his work, finishing a last comment on Katherine Bishop’s report card before, dropping it on top of the rest of the pile. “Done!” he exclaimed, stretching his arms out in victory. “Good thing I’m just a PE teacher and don’t have to mark tests and homework like everyone else.

“Does this free time mean you’re going to leave me alone this weekend to pursue your hobbies?” he asked optimistically.

“My hobbies usually include another person,” he shot back. “Want to see a movie tomorrow and then maybe later, come back to your place?” He shamelessly waggled his eyebrows.

“You’re a terrible flirt. What would Natasha say?” Bucky scoffed.

“Nat would ask for pictures.”

“As much as I would love to take you up on your pity date, I actually have my appointment tomorrow afternoon with Stark. My arm needs a check-up to make sure that it’s not going to strangle me in my sleep or something like that.”

“Aw, I know Steve’s better looking that I am, but you’re really ditching me for him?”

“I’m not going with Steve; he’s busy tomorrow. I’m going on my own.”

“Really?” Clint perked up. “Why didn’t you say anything? I can take you. Maybe we can make it into a date after all.

“No, I was just going to take the train. Take a day for myself and not have Steve or anyone hovering, you know?”

Clint was serious again as he studied Bucky. “Yeah,” said quietly, “I know.”

That was the nice thing about Clint; despite all the teasing, he knew when to stop pushing, and Bucky suspected that it was because he had more demons than he really let on. But, their non-verbal agreement kept each other from digging into each other’s past, lest it brought up too many memories.

They turned the conversation to a more comfortable topic as they watched a superhero drama where the villain would make some long-winded reveal that was just long enough to let the hero escape and save the day.

Gradually, they let the illusion of normal wash over them.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **References:**  
>  -[Darcy’s Cat (Atticus)](http://www.photos-public-domain.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/gray-tabby-cat-in-cardboard-box.jpg)  
> -[Bucky’s Cat (Winter)](http://parkpethospital.ca/wp-content/uploads/2014/10/black_cat.jpg) (but you know, missing one of the front legs)  
> -“I can’t go to prison for vehicular manslaughter, Jane. I don’t have the temperament for it. If someone touches me, I will cut them.” A modified quote and reference to Alison’s conversation with Felix from _Orphan Black_.  
>  -When Darcy says that she would date Josh Groban if she were an actress refers to Kat Denning’s real life relationship with Josh Groban.  
> -The cat named “The Good King Snugglewumps” is an actual cat from a [ Wisconsin Humane Society](http://www.cbc.ca/newsblogs/yourcommunity/2014/10/creative-cat-names-bring-wisconsin-humane-society-into-the-spotlight.html)  
> -“I think Phil would take her home if he didn’t already have five cats himself” and Phil being able to hold a cat that avoids all the pointy ends- Refers to the amazing fic, [“Phil Coulson is not a crazy cat lady”](http://archiveofourown.org/works/720149?view_full_work=true), where he adopts a bunch of cats that follow him everywhere.  
> -Sam getting Bucky the experimental prosthetic arm refers to the AU work [Critical Feline Mass](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1679630?view_full_work=true) where Bucky and Steve are roommates.  
> \- Bucky has a dog named Winter in the AU fic ["Politics and Animals](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1824967). I thought it was a great name for his pet and borrowed the name for the cat.  
> -“Ohana means family…” – Quote from _Lilo and Stitch_ (2002).  
> 
> 
> \---
> 
> I'm dipping my toes into writing for Marvel fandom, and combining my three favourite things: Bucky+Darcy, CATS!, and AUs! Please let me know of what you think or if you happen to find any mistakes!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the fact that there isn't a whole lot about the cats in this particular chapter.

This day seemed never-ending. Darcy could swear that the clock was actually counting backwards. It wasn’t quite the worst day that she’d had since moving to New York, but it was damn close, and the day was still young and full of potential. Darcy slumped over her desk, uncaring of how unprofessional it looked. She was exhausted and ready to go home, but it was barely eleven o’clock, not even lunch time yet.

During her time at Stark Industries, Darcy had never been late for work. Sure, she’d had a couple of days where she just barely made it in time (usually out of breath and swearing under her breath because it would be just her luck that the elevators would take forever that day), but she had never been actually late. Until today, that is.

Darcy blamed Thor because it all started with him. He was back in the country again, and came by the apartment last night to visit and spend some quality time with Jane. Thor was usually gregarious and energetic, but instead he’d looked worn-out. He explained briefly that there were strained relations between his younger brother and the rest of the family, something about how he found out he was adopted and went a little crazy as a result. Apparently, he attempted a coup that almost brought down his father’s company, which, Darcy admitted, probably made family dinners awkward.

“I wish I had known then what I know now about my brother. It is no other’s fault but mine that I have hurt him and alienated him all these years,” Thor had said sadly as he sat on their couch. Jane had crooned in sympathy as she put her head on Scandinavian Shakespeare’s shoulder. Even though English was Thor’s second language, he still spoke it better than some native speakers that Darcy knew. He could somehow twist the most mundane of sentences into flowing poetry.

Darcy stayed for a little while, catching up Thor on the latest news, before declaring that it was bed time for her. She knew when she was being a third wheel.

“Darcy, before I forget, I brought your feline friend a small gift from my travels.”

“Aw, you really didn’t have to, Big Guy.”

“I saw it in one of the shops and I was reminded of your tale about last year’s Thanksgiving festivities.” He pulled out a small, stuffed hedgehog from a plastic bag and offered it to Atticus who was doing his best impression of a cushion where he was parked on Thor’s lap. Darcy laughed, and was somewhat impressed that he had remembered her story about how she’d taken Atticus home to Montana for Thanksgiving where he decided that her brother’s hedgehog was his new favorite friend in the whole world. Although, when it came to Atticus the Over Friendly, everyone was his new favorite friend.

What Darcy didn’t realize, though, was that the hedgehog toy squeaked when squeezed and she’d clearly underestimated Atticus’s love for his new plaything. He refused to stop playing with it, even in the middle of the night. Darcy tried to put it away where he couldn’t get it, but then he started to cry. When Darcy tried to shoo Atticus out of the room, he sat outside of her door and meowed until she let him back in where he would play with the damn hedgehog, thus beginning the cycle all over again. She was so tired that she slept through her alarm this morning, hence the late arrival to work.

A _ping_ alerted her of the politely worded, passive-aggressive email about tardiness that had arrived in her inbox. She inwardly groaned and scanned the office, wondering who could have tattled on her to Human Resources. Having worked in the Public Relations department for a year now, Darcy had gotten to know most of her colleagues on her floor, (and it was a massive floor too), even though some couldn’t bother to give her a second glance on account of how low she was on the corporate ladder.

Her job, on paper, was Social Media Coordinator, which sounded awesome, but really translated into the equivalent of “monkey at a typewriter” since all she did was keep an eye on Tony Stark’s internet status and reputation (ratings were up since he’d gotten together with Pepper; the world loves a reformed bad boy) and update his Twitter and Facebook from time to time. Sure, it didn’t really have much to do with her Political Science degree, but with the bleak job market, she was lucky to be even working somewhere where she didn’t have to ask, “do you want fries with that?” Sadly, it was true what they said: choose a job that you love and you will never work a day in your life… because that field isn’t hiring. And despite her grumbling, Darcy did enjoy working at SI; it was a fairly easy job that paid and had benefits. Plus, the office was all sleek and modern with large windows that gave an unparalleled view of the city that reminded her just how far from home she was.

After graduating high school, Darcy was determined to not get trapped in the sleepy, small town that she grew up in. She and her best friend, Meg Cartwright, had talked for endless hours about their plans once they got out of Swift Lake; they’d had such naïve dreams to see the world and become more than just two small-town girls from Montana. Darcy had gotten accepted to Culver University and moved out east to Virginia, despite her parents’ reservations about having their daughter so far away. Meg, on the other hand, stayed behind to take care of her sick mother and young siblings. What was supposed to be one year off to help her family get on their feet soon turned into eight years and she eventually realized that she wasn’t going anywhere. The emails and phone calls between the two friends gradually decreased over the years as they drifted apart. Some days though, the winking, bright city lights made her think of Meg and everything that she had left behind, and Darcy couldn’t help but feel like she’d somehow betrayed her friend.

The click of heels interrupted her reverie as Darcy looked up to see Maria Hill, head of PR and general badass bitch (who was rumored to have killed a man by crushing his skull between her thighs), headed straight for her desk. Darcy started panicking. Was it because she was late this morning?

Maria stopped in front of Darcy, giving her a narrowed, shrewd look before dropping a file on her desk. “These need be signed by Ms. Potts.” Darcy gaped a little (okay, a lot) because she wasn’t sure what Maria expected her to do (they had plenty minions to take care of inter-office mail). As if reading Darcy’s mind, Maria added, “she specifically requested to that you personally deliver these to her.” Her face remained neutral, giving no other indications as to why she, Darcy Lewis, a lowly employee would be meeting Pepper Potts, CEO of a multi-billion company and one of Time Magazine’s top five most influential people in the world.

As Darcy stepped into the elevator, a sudden thought hit her as she remembered her reports. Part of her job requirement was to provide updates on Tony Stark’s current social media image. There was the quick write-up that she submitted weekly and then a much longer and detailed report that was due at the end of each month. However, she was sure that no one read the long reports anyways, so she’d taken to adding little pieces of her own opinion in the middle of the paragraphs. She couldn’t help it; it came with years of writing position papers for university that her professors had loved. And maybe she got a little carried away sometimes. Much like, how she thought Stark could have shut his mouth instead of running it when a particular right-winged journalist asked him what he thought about on the upcoming senator elections. She knew that Stark’s comments were made in his usual belligerent fashion, without much thought and heavy on the sarcasm, but the news outlet had twisted his words into a different meaning. She’d happened to rant on a bit about closed-minded news sources after that, but also how Stark also needed to stop baiting them. She may have also called him an ass at some point too because that was what happened when she wrote drunk and after midnight.

It was almost ironic because it was back to bite her ass instead.

 

\---

 

Fifteen minutes later, Darcy left the office of Pepper Potts even more confused than before. The elegant woman had greeted her briefly, smiling at her (she was surprisingly not that scary for a woman at the top of the corporate ladder, but still gave the impression of "mess with me and it’ll be the last thing that you'll ever do"), before asking her for a small favor. “I’m afraid I’ve got a flight to catch in less than an hour, and I need these proposals approved by Tony by today. If you wouldn’t mind popping into his workshop and getting him to look these over,” Pepper had said casually, holding out a stack of papers and shuffling Darcy out the door before she had a chance to even process the request. When had she turned into the office gofer?

Taking a breath and getting back into the elevator, she tried to reassure herself. The good news: she still had her job. The bad news: she had to go find Tony Stark now. Looking at the panel of buttons, she didn’t see one that was labeled “Genius Billionaire’s Workshop”. She chewed her lip, trying to figure out which floor he would be on, but then the elevator lurched and started moving. Okay, well, it seemed like that was already done for her.

When doors slid opened again a while later (she guessed she was somewhere in the basement levels, a place that very few people had clearance for), she followed the directions Pepper had given her before coming to a short hallway that extended to a set of glass doors where the sound of Guns and Roses seemed to be loudly emanating from.

Hesitantly slipping into the workshop, she was greeted by a vast room full of holographic projections and half-built machinery. She must have spent a full minute just staring with her mouth gaping when someone emerged from somewhere, cut the music, and snapped his fingers at her. “Hey, you! Who are you? What are you doing down here?” She could see his eyes drifting down as he looked her over.

“Hey!” she was the one who snapped her fingers at him this time. “Eyes up here, jerk-wad. Just because you’ve got so much money that it’s coming out the wazoo does not make you entitled to stare.” Darcy blurted, her irritation getting the better of her before she had time to censor herself. A dim part of her mind realized that if she didn’t get fired before, she was definitely getting fired now.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “I appreciate you fangirls and your dedication, but I really don’t do that anymore. Pepper would kill me.”

“Actually, having met Pepper Potts, I’m pretty sure death would be preferable than what she would do to you,” She couldn’t help it; she was annoyed that Stark had automatically assumed that she’d snuck in to sex him up.

He smirked at her as she tried to shove the papers at him. God, Tony Stark was every bit of an ass as he seemed on TV. “Ms. Potts sent these to be approved.”

“Pepper sent you?” He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t take files. “That’s a terrible excuse. Honey, if you just wanted to come down here to steal information, all you had to do was ask. I’m very accommodating,” he purred.

“A) This would be the worst corporate espionage attempt ever since you’re standing right here, and B) _Pepper_ did send me, but I’m starting to see why she didn’t just come down herself.”

“If you’re trying to charm me out of the specs for the quantum field generator, you’re going to have to be a little more convincing,” he said, spreading his arms in invitation.

Darcy snorted. “I wouldn’t touch you if you were—” She stopped short when she noticed a giant claw on wheels edging towards her like a curious animal. “What’s that?”

With a sigh of exasperation, Stark warned, “Dum-E, no.” It ignored him and rolled up to Darcy, dropping a wrench at her feet and waited.

“What does it want?” she asked when it made sad whirring noises when she made no move to pick it up.

He sighed exasperatedly. “Dum-E wants you to play Fetch. And before you get any ideas, don’t even think about throwing that.”

“Aw, like a dog!” Darcy exclaimed, momentarily impressed that Stark could build something so delightfully adorable.

“A very stupid, metal dog. There’s a reason he’s named Dum-E.”

“You gave your robot a gender?”

“Technically, he chose it himself.”

“Who’s a good boy?” she asked Dum-E. He moved his claw up and down in excitement as she hesitantly reached out to pet Dum-E. He emitted a series of happy beeps that made her laugh.

“You know what? On second thought…” Stark reached down for the wrench and hurled it across the room. The bot looked in the direction the tool was thrown, then back at Darcy, then back across the workshop again, clearly torn between Darcy’s affections and fetching the wrench. Dum-E started whirling in circles, making confused and sad noises. “Now you’ve done it. You’ve broken him.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Go,” he commanded the robot, and Dum-E rolled off. “You have no idea. It’s going to take him hours to find that,” he groaned.

“You’re the one that threw the wrench,” she retorted.

“Only to stop Dum-E from fawning over you. You’re welcome, by the way. He would have followed you around for hours if I didn’t step in to save you. I know it sounds cute, but trust me, he gets in the way more than he gets out of it.”

Darcy crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “My hero,” she drawled. “Would you like the key to the city and the mayor to thank you now, Superman?”

“I already have five keys to the city. I expect a better reward, Lewis.”

It took Darcy a moment to register what he’d just said. “Wait! You know who I am?”

“Pfft,” he snorted. “Of course I know. I don’t just let anyone wander down here, you know. Do you really think I leave all my doors unlocked?”

Darcy suddenly felt like this was all part of a test, and she wasn’t sure if she’d passed or not. She had sinking feeling it was more of the latter rather than the former. Well, if she no longer had her job, she wasn’t going to put up with his crap. “What was all that, then?”

“All what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Stark. We all know that you’re marginally smarter than you look and a lot less charming than you think.”

He gave her a mock-hurt look as he clutched his chest. “You don’t think I’m charming?” She gave him a pointed glared, clearly refusing to play along. “No? Nothing? I must be losing my touch.” He dropped his arms in disappointment. “Everyone who walks through the door gets scanned.” He tipped his head behind her where the holographic screen was currently projecting her company profile.

“Ugh, that’s really the picture that they have of me on file?” Darcy wrinkled her nose in distaste.

“To be fair, the one they have of me isn’t much better either.”

“I highly doubt that. You probably have a team of stylists and Photoshop people on speed dial that take care of that for you.”

“Okay, you got me there. I always look flawless, but I didn’t want you to feel bad that you had to compete with this raw perfection.” He gestured at himself with a smug look the same time Darcy scoffed.

“Apparently raw perfection didn’t get the memo today.” She gestured at his grease-stained hands and messy hair.

He grinned toothily at her. “What can I say? I like to get down and dirty.”

She studied Stark closely for the first time since she entered the room, and realized that he looked drained, like he hadn’t slept well for a long time, with dark shadows under his eyes. She hadn’t noticed that earlier when he was ogling her but she was beginning to think it was a defense tactic rather than a sexual overture. “When was the last time you slept?” she inquired, changing the subject, remembering that Pepper had mentioned something about Stark steadily working since yesterday.

His salacious expression shifted into something…. guilty? Darcy wasn’t sure he was capable of feeling guilt, based on everything she’d read about him, but he turned back to his workbench and started fiddling with some complicated-looking part. “I would ask if you’re interested in finding out my sleeping habits first hand, but I’d hate to tempt you,” he said a little too nonchalantly. “And besides, you were right.”

“They have pre-filled sexual harassment forms for you?” Darcy retorted.

“Death would be preferable to Pepper’s wrath,” he said with amusement.

“Speaking of Pepper, I need these signed.” She handed him the papers she was still stuck holding.

“These don’t need to be approved until Wednesday. It’s only Monday,” Stark said, skimming over the pages and flipping to the back where he signed his messy and illegible signature.

“Today is Wednesday.”

“Oh.” He looked at a loss for words for a moment, before shrugging. “Well, it’s been fun, kid. I appreciate the sarcasm, but I need to get back to work.

“Sarcasm is one of the many services I offer,” Darcy smirked. “Have fun hiding out in your villain lair.”

“It’s not a lair!” he protested.

“Whatever. Good luck with building your freeze ray, Dr. Horrible!” Darcy said with a wave before exiting the room and the music resumed playing at full blast again.

 

\---

 

Bucky was lost, but refused to admit it. Each corner he turned seem to lead to another hallway that looked like the one he’d just come from. Well, he wasn’t completely lost. He could turn around and retrace his steps, but it still wouldn’t bring him any closer to finding out where Tony fucking Stark was today.

Tony wasn’t in one of the usual labs where Bucky usually met him, and instead had retreated to one of his sub-basement workshops, hidden somewhere in a labyrinth of shiny hallways. The receptionist in the lobby hadn’t been particularly helpful; she’d handed him a visitor’s pass, vaguely mentioned that Mr. Stark was in his basement workshop today, and then waved Bucky off as she took a phone call.

Bucky had gotten into the elevator, looked at what must have been over a hundred different buttons on the panel, unsure of which one to press, when the doors smoothly slid closed, and the elevator lurched to life, seeming to know where it was supposed to be going. Bucky grabbed the rail on the side, trying to take a calming breath and suppress his growing anxiety. He half expected Tony, with his manic grin, to be standing on the side of the doors when the elevator finally stopped, but it only let him off in an unfamiliar hall that didn’t give any clues where he was supposed to go. It seemed like he was the only one aimlessly wandering the halls because the few potted plants he saw were the only living things that he’d come across so far.

The lack of direction and clear exits had him feeling agitated. He gritted his teeth and considered turning back, but needed to see Tony today. There was a tension in his left shoulder that had been bothering him lately; even Steve had noticed it was starting to annoy him even though he’d tried to hide it. So, he took a few deep breaths that did little to calm him and told himself that the sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could be out of there.

Bucky was so busy seething that, when he rounded a corner, he collided with another person with an astonished grunt from each of them. The shock suddenly triggered a memory of explosions and panic, and without thinking, he reached out to grab the other person and tackled them to ground, squeezing his eyes tight and waiting for the inevitable, deafening bang… except it never came.

Instead, there was an indignant squawk of surprise and then someone pushing at his chest. “Get off of me!”

Realizing that he was pinning someone, Bucky quickly pulled back to let go of the other person. “Sorry,” he said, breathlessly, his heart still beating a tattoo against his chest. Adrenaline prickled his skin and he was dimly aware what he’d broken out in cold sweat. “I didn’t mean to…” He closed his eyes again, trying to will away the feeling of terror, reminding himself that he was in New York now.

“Who the hell do you think you are? Look at what you did!” There were some peeved huffing sounds. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes to see a woman with her head bent down, trying to collect the papers she’d dropped when he’d grabbed her.

He tried again and managed a, “sorry.”

She looked up, eyes narrowed in distrust through her glasses. Feeling uncomfortable, Bucky looked away and started to help her gather the rest of the fallen papers. He handed them back to her silently.

“Thanks,” she said as she attempted to gracefully get to her feet, pulling down the black pencil skirt that had ridden up and smoothing down her blouse. Then, she held her free hand out to him. He stared at it for a moment before registering that she was offering her assistance. Bucky clenched his left fist instinctively and shoved it into his jacket pocket. Despite having had his prosthetic arm for months, it still didn’t feel like his arm. He was still self-conscious, preferring to wear long-sleeved shirts and jackets, and gloves whenever possible when he was out in public. He got up without taking her hand, not trusting himself. He could still feel that fear lodged in his ribcage, reminding him that he was still ready to react.

He must have been scowling because the woman awkwardly dropped her offered hand. Or, it was the realization that she was alone in an empty hallway with a strange, disheveled man who already attacked her once. “Uh, right. Anyways, I should…” she made a shuffling attempt to move past him. “…go.”

Feeling the desperate need to make her understand, he blurted, “I didn’t mean to knock into you.” He could feel that panic rising inside of him again, but he was helpless to stop it. “I just had a moment. I’m sorry if I hurt you. I— I’ve been getting better, I promise, but something just happened to me!” When he finally got control of himself, he sucked in a breath of shock realized that he held onto her wrist and that he’d escalated to the point of shouting. She looked up at him, head tipped back with her astonishingly blue eyes that unflinchingly held his gaze. He dropped her arm as though it had burned him, and turned away from her before he could do anything else stupid and dangerous.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.

“It’s really not.”

“How can I help you? Do you need to sit down?” He opened his eyes and she was looking back him with concern. In that instant, he hated how weak he felt in front of a stranger, a beautiful one, no less. He suddenly, strangely wished he had his cat with him; Winter usually helped stabilize him after moments like these.

“I need—” he started, but he was already sliding down against the wall and settling on the cold tiles.

“I’m going to hug you, okay? Don’t freak out,” she said as she sank to the floor with him. He gave a jerky nod and she wrapped her arms around his torso, tucking her head under his chin. “Just follow my breathing,” she instructed. He closed his eyes again, wrapped his arms around her, and concentrated on the rhythm of her inhale and exhale. After several minutes, he could feel himself regain control and his focus shifted to realize that a warm body was curled around his and that he could smell the scent of coconut and vanilla from her shampoo.

Feeling the change in muscle tension and breathing pattern, she raised her head to look at him, her pretty, red lips curved into a triumphant smile that he could not fathom. She should have run away screaming. It would have been a hell of a lot safer. Bucky knew he was unpredictable during these moments, even deadly.

She seemed to be unconcerned though. “Feeling better?”

“You shouldn’t have done that, I could have hurt you.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I could have,” he insisted. He tried to move to stand up, but he found that he lacked the energy, and she put her hand out on his chest to stay him.

“Just relax. I know what I’m doing. Well, kind of. I had a roommate who had some anxiety issues. She was a hugger, having someone hold her always helped her calm down.” She studied him as she told him this, and Bucky was suddenly aware of how he would appear to her: messy and unkempt. He’d been running late this morning, so he hadn’t bothered to shave or brush his hair properly. Winter, who still hadn’t quite gotten over her jailbreak phase, had attempted to dash out of the apartment when Bucky had tried to open it, hence his lateness. He finally had to lock her in his room; he just hoped that when he got back, nothing in there was destroyed… too badly.

Untangling his arms from her, he attempted to put some room between himself and her before her proximity induced another panic attack, which was seemed, to Bucky, a ridiculous reason to be flustered over. It wasn’t like he’d never been hugged by a woman before. “Sorry,” he said, wondering how many times he was going to end up apologizing today.

“No worries,” she says, grinning. “It’s actually the most exciting thing that’s happened to me all day. Well, that and meeting Pepper Potts, and I’m pretty sure I got fired from my job for talking to Tony fucking Stark like I did. So, I really did need a hug and you’re conveniently here.”

He scrambled for something witty to say back to her, something to let her know that he wasn’t completely crazy. “Did you really just say all of that in the same breath?”

“Would you be impressed if I said yes? Because, if so, I need to put that on my resume right under the bullshit I wrote about having people skills.”

“I had no idea that was an ability in demand.”

“You’d be surprised. It’s a skill set that would be valuable for opera singers and freedivers, for example. Both of which I am neither,” she added. “So, I guess that’s not going to be really all that helpful.”

“Well, you’ve been quite helpful, actually. Thank you.” Bucky looked down, still embarrassed by his episode. “But, I’ve got to…,” and for a lack of a better word, he finished lamely with, “…go.”

“Are you here to see Stark? I mean, I’m just assuming, but what do I know? I just thought because you’re down on this floor and apparently not just anyone can access this level.” she babbled. “Unless, you’re a corporate spy, in which case, I’m going to have to warn Stark that someone is really actually after his quantum whatsit and hopefully be un-fired.”

“Yes,” he said. “No, wait, no.” He took a breath and said evenly, “yes, I have a meeting with Stark. No, I’m not a spy. I just got a little lost.”

“Oh, good,” she smiled, but quickly remedied, “good that you’re not a spy, that is. Stark is holed up in his workshop.” She tipped her head to one side and started talking again. By the time, he focused on what she was saying, he realized he had just missed the directions to Stark’s workshop. Luckily, seeing the confused look on his face, she pushed her glasses up and said, “actually, I could take you, if you’d like.” He was momentarily taken aback as he weighed his options: have her guide him to where he was supposed be but have to prolong his embarrassment, or continue to be lost and hope to find Stark by luck.

She waited expectantly for his answer. “I would love nothing more,” he admitted.

A smile bloomed on her face, and by this time, he had calmed down enough to appreciate it and even be charmed a bit by it. “I’m James, by the way. Well, my friends call me Bucky.”

“Darcy Lewis, at your service: Stark Industry’s Unofficial Tour Guide, Political Science Major, and Chocolate Enthusiast,” she declared, holding out her hand again, and this time, he took it.

Along the way, Darcy chattered away, her conversation was easy-going with no mention of what transpired earlier. “Watch out for Stark. He’s in one of those moods where he’ll accuse you of stealing and then try to flirt with you at the same time.”

“Charming,” Bucky said dryly.

“He’s got this reputation as this playboy, but I’ve been up close and personal, and I’m really not sure what the appeal is.”

“I’m sure being rich helps.”

“I’m not sure how,” Darcy snorted, “since he’s got such a delightful personality.” Bucky was momentarily caught off-guard and he gave a short laugh. He was about say that he wasn’t that bad once you got to know him, but he stayed quiet as he realized smack-talking Tony Stark was her way of venting her own frustrations.

“I guess it’s not his fault that he’s the real-life equivalent of Batman,” Darcy continued. “You know, with the whole dead parents, billionaire, genius thing going on.”

“I suppose that explains some of the things he does,” Bucky said.

“He’s too rich to be weird. He’s eccentric,” she snickered. “At least he’s not making any more tabloid headlines because he was indecent in public or caught with some girl looking for her fifteen minutes of fame.”

“It doesn’t stop them from making things up,” he said, remembering some of the outrageous headlines that claimed he was having a secret affair with a married, Hollywood celebrity, or that he was the father of some teenaged, Disney starlet.

As they got closer to the workshop, Bucky could hear the muffled strains of familiar music blasting. “Well, here we are.” Darcy did a sweeping _tah-dah_ motion with her arms.

He cleared his throat. “Listen, thanks for everything back there,” he offered. “I really appreciate it.”

“Any time,” she smiled. “Good luck.” She gave a small wave and Bucky watched her retreating form until she disappeared around a corner.

 

\---

 

“You’re late,” Tony accused as soon as the workshop doors opened. If he noticed anything different about Bucky, he didn’t give any indication. The blaring music was accommodatingly turned off because of Bucky’s sensitivity to loud sounds.

“I wouldn’t be if you were in one of the usual labs upstairs.”

“I have more tools down here,” he said, waving a hand distractedly. “And, what? No, Captain Uptight with you today?”

“He was busy,” Bucky shrugged. Steve usually hovered over Bucky during these tune-ups, but Tony’s brash personality irritated Steve, which only made Tony go out of his way to be more annoying. It was amusing to watch, but after a while, Bucky took pity on Steve and scheduled the last couple appointments during times when he knew Steve would be busy so he wouldn’t feel obligated to come.

“Shame. There goes the entertainment for the afternoon,” Tony pouted as he got to work on Bucky’s arm, connecting several wires to a device that projected a series of Bucky’s stats and vitals on a holographic screen. Tony clucked his tongue as he swiped quickly through the information.

Bucky had known Tony Stark for less than a year and in that time, Bucky had come to begrudgingly respect him. Sure, he was still an unmitigated asshole with too much money and no filter on his mouth at times, but he still had his moments that proved he had a heart somewhere. The metal arm was publicized as a philanthropic and experimental procedure that Bucky didn’t have to pay for (not that he would have been able to afford it anyways), but Bucky knew that Tony was the one behind the generous donation to the VA as well as several children’s hospitals in the city; he had caught glimpses of the papers that Tony had absent-mindedly left laying around.

Not only that, Bucky’s long list of bills and medical expenses had been not-so-subtly paid off. Bucky hated feeling like he was relying on handouts, but he silently accepted Tony’s charity because he needed it. But, when Tony gifted Winter a collar with state-of-the-art GPS tracking, (in case she successfully pulled one of her get-away acts one day), Bucky put his foot down, and it had ended poorly with a shouting match and a slammed door between the two of them.

Later that week, Pepper Potts had unexpectedly showed up at his doorstep and Bucky had no choice but to invite her in. She had patiently explained that spending a lot of money was Tony’s strange way of showing that he cared. “Tony is very wealthy, but to him, it doesn’t matter, because what is the good of money unless it’s useful? He is aware that not everyone is blessed with the same financial opportunities, and he knows better than anyone that money doesn’t buy happiness, but it sure helps sometimes. Besides, making his friends happy makes him happy, even if he denies it.” Bucky had protested and stubbornly held onto his pride, but Pepper gave him a look that would have leveled lesser men. In the end, Tony and Bucky pretended the fight had never happened, but somewhere along the way, they had ended up in this uncertain friendship.

Tony started telling a story about something or other that had happened during one of the R&D labs last week that Bucky was only half-listening to, but he felt soothed by the familiar timbre of his voice. “And then the new guy looks up at me after he’d broken the damn gasket and actually says, ‘please don’t tell Mr. Stark!’ He had no idea who I was. He thought I was the supervisor,” Tony barks. “It was hilarious when I called into my office next day. He was practically pissing himself.”

“Is that what you do for fun? Terrorize your employees?” Bucky asked darkly, remembering what Darcy had said earlier.

“Among other things,” Tony replied, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “But, no. Long story short, New Guy got promoted so everybody wins.”

“He got a promotion because he broke something?”

“He found a major design flaw in the pressure distribution in the original gasket he broke, polymer degradation, and all that, but then, he came up with a different design that that ensures parallel sealing that prevents any asymmetrical connections and minimizes the loss of torque over time.” Tony paused, as if admiring concept in his head, and then flipped a wrench in the air before catching it. “But he really got the promotion because he told me I was wrong and then suggested something better.”

“Your over-inflated ego actually took that? I’m shocked,” Bucky teased.

“Believe it or not, Barnes, but it takes a lot of guts to speak up when you notice something is wrong, especially when it’s to someone in a higher position than you.”

“Are you sure your ass isn’t just chafed from all the kissing?”

“Hey, I enjoy that from time to time too, so get ready and pucker up.”

“I’ll pass. I forgot my lip chap today.” Bucky twitched as Tony was replacing a cartridge. It was unnerving to see his arm opened up like that with the wires and circuits exposed, but the rhythm of the conversation helped him focus on something else. “Besides, don’t you have someone to do that for you daily?”

“Usually my PA, but he quit.”

“Already? It’s only been three months,” Bucky recalled.

“To be fair though, this one lasted longer than the one before him, even when I sent him back four times when he couldn’t get my breakfast sandwich order right.”

“Boss of the year,” he muttered.

Tony shrugged. “Pepper says I’m not allowed to fire them anymore, but they’re free to walk away when they’ve had enough. We give them a nice severance package even though they’re the ones quitting.”

“Have you thought about keeping them around more than a few months at a time?”

“And not let the others have a turn? I’m nothing if not fair.”

He snorted. “No one’s going to ever measure up to Pepper when she had the job, so you might as well stop setting your expectations so high.”

“Wow! Gold Star for you, Doctor Phil.” He paused from inserting the panel back into place. “While we’re on the topic, let’s talk about your expectations.”

Bucky tensed as he sensed an uncomfortable discussion that he wanted no part of, but he couldn’t really storm out before his arm was finished, which he suspected was the intent. “What expectations?”

“You seem to expect to go through all this—” he swept his arm over Bucky, “—by yourself. But you can ask for help, you know.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Bucky gritted.

“No, seriously. I know your whole strong and mysterious G.I. Joe persona has all the ladies swooning, but it doesn’t mean you can’t show any emotions or, you know, talk to anyone.”

“I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.”

Tony blew out a breath, moving to put the final piece into place. “Look, I’m not good at admitting when I need help either, but it’s better than trying to keep it bottled up. Stevie says you refuse to go to the meetings at the VA—”

“You’ve been talking to Steve?”

“Not by choice. He asked me to talk to you because he’s worried, which I am beginning to see is justified. I’m also willing to bet you haven’t been exactly completely honest with the shrink either.

Bucky silently fumed, which Tony took as guilty silence. As soon as the last panel was secured, Bucky ripped his arm out of Tony’s grip. “Thanks,” he snarled, “but I really don’t need any help from you beyond the mechanical kind.” He snatched his jacket and gloves off the workbench.

Tony took a step back and looked at him with heaviness in his expression. “For what it’s worth, I’m here, if you need me.”

“I won’t,” promised Bucky as he exited the workshop without a backwards glance.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **References:**  
>  -I forgot to mention last chapter that Darcy’s cat is named after the character, Atticus Finch, from Harper Lee’s _To Kill a Mockingbird._  
>  -Tony’s bots having a self-identified gender is a lovely concept I borrowed from Wynn's fic, [And the Wounded Sing](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2222256)  
> -Meg Cartwright is a character borrowed from Mary Lawson’s novel, _Road Ends_ , which depicts a dysfunctional family living in the Canadian wilderness of northern Ontario. In the novel, Meg does have dreams of leaving her small, isolated town, but her family’s dependency on her makes it hard for her to leave.  
> -Dr. Horrible and the freeze ray: _Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog_ (A short film by Joss Whedon and is available online for your viewing pleasure.)
> 
>  **Author Notes:**  
>  The fun thing about writing and creating one’s own story is that, often, the story and the characters will take on their lives of their own and run away from everything that I had planned out. This piece of fiction is just that. What I had originally meant to be a cutesy, ~5K story about CATS (yes, capitals) has become so much bigger and deeper as the characters demand to live and breathe. 
> 
> In this chapter, the exchange between Bucky and Darcy was quite difficult to write, and I’ve had to rewrite it several times. In my outline, I had wanted them to have a really fluffy meeting involving their cats somehow, but I found it was an opportunity to explore Bucky’s PTSD. I’m not intimately familiar with PTSD and have had to do some research into it, but I hope the way that I’ve portrayed Bucky is still true of someone who has experienced trauma.
> 
> I discovered About Face which is a site that has personal accounts from various veterans suffering from PTSD as well as family/friends who have been around someone with PTSD. It has helped me begin to understand the complexities of PTSD and I was surprised to learn about the varied symptoms and effects. 
> 
> I’ve found that mental illnesses and disorders are not really talked about and carry a stigma, and so people who do suffer are afraid to admit anything is wrong. But, when we are brave enough to share stories and experiences, we open a dialogue for it and an opportunity to educate ourselves. Hopefully, we create awareness so that those who need help won’t be afraid to ask for it. 
> 
> \---
> 
> I also need to confess that I am a Crazy Cat Lady minus the cats. Cats make me happy, but I am not in a situation where I could care for one. Any personal stories or suggestions/inspirations would be appreciated and I would love you forever.
> 
> \---
> 
> I am working on the next chapter, but updates will be slow as I return to work and deal with some health related issues. 
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated. Thank you for all the responses and support!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am blown away by all your support and stories about your pets. Thank you so much.

Despite the hug from the good-looking, random guy, Darcy didn’t feel much better about her impending unemployment. She went home that night and cried into her wine with Jane and Atticus. The former was sympathetic, but the latter licked himself and fell asleep on her.

“I should feel bad.”

“Are you talking about your boss or knocking over that guy today?” Jane asked.

Realizing that she had spoken aloud, Darcy turned her head from where she was reclining on the couch to look at her roommate better. “Super hot, Nineties-grunge dude,” she clarified, not quite sure when the conversation had drifted in that direction. She’d told Jane about running into someone, but she hadn’t quite admitted that she’d enjoyed their little impromptu hug way more than she should have. She was a bit embarrassed that she may have gone a little overboard with her impression of an octopus with abandonment issues, but she remembered how it had felt snuggled up against him. If she closed her eyes, she could almost recreate in her mind the way her cheek was pressed against the warm plane of his chest and the way he’d smelled.

“What did you say this guy’s name was again?” Jane interrupted.

“Uh,” she searched her alcohol-hazed memory. “He goes by Bucky,” Darcy sighed. She scratched Atticus, who was currently snoring on her stomach, behind the ears.

“What kind of a name is Bucky?”

“It’s his nickname, not his real name, like when I call you ‘Jane the Brain’ or ‘Fartface’.” Darcy, for some reason, thought this was hilarious and giggled. Atticus was awoken by the shaking of her body, cracked open an eye, yawned, and changed positions so that his butt was turned to Darcy’s face now, and went back to sleep.

Jane gave Darcy a long-suffering look. “Really mature. Besides, I thought you were giving dating a break.”

“I _am_ giving dating a break, but it doesn’t mean I can’t look, especially when he looks as hot as _that_. Besides, I’ll probably never see him again.”

“That’s what I said when I met Thor.”

“I remember that. It made it so much funnier when you ran over him later,” Darcy cackled. Jane rolled her eyes, but her lips quirked up.

Soon after, she declared that it was late and shuffled Darcy off to bed. “Keep your head. Good things are coming,” she said.

Darcy sniffed, “thanks, Jane,” before dropping off to sleep, hoping that her friend had super psychic powers and was right.

 

\---

 

The next day, Darcy went into work fully expecting her security pass to be rejected, but when her no one stopped her, she sat tensely at her desk for the whole morning. Just before lunch, her phone rang and she jumped, realizing that this was the moment. However, when she answered, it wasn’t Human Resources on the other end.

“Darcy, I’m in Milan until next week,” Pepper explained, “and while I had wanted to wait so that I could speak to you in person, I’m afraid I need your services earlier than anticipated.”

Still in shock, Darcy struggled to find a coherent reply, but the sound that came out of mouth was closer to, “guhhh.”

“I was actually hoping you would consider a different position at Stark Industries that would put your talents and skills to much better use than the current job that you hold. Tony has been looking for an appropriate Personal Assistant for some time now, as you may be aware. We were hoping you would accept.”

“Personal Assistant?” Darcy looked around the office, unsure if this was a joke.

“I do realize that this a bit of a change, and you don’t have to make a decision immediately. It will start as a probationary position. There is a three-month window where if you are not happy with the new position, you will return to the current position that you hold. There are no repercussions should you decide to accept or reject the offer.”

“Wait! So, I’m not fired?”

Pepper chortled. “Quite the opposite, actually. I’ve been reading your reports and I’ve found them to be refreshingly insightful when it comes to Tony’s behaviour.”

Darcy’s mind was boggled. “While I appreciate the offer, Ms. Potts, I don’t think I gave a stellar performance when I met Mr. Stark yesterday.” Calling the boss a jerk to his face probably wasn’t the best way to start a work relationship.

There was another amused laugh from the other end of the line. “You handled Tony well yesterday; you weren’t intimidated by him. He’s used to getting his way, only because of his reputation and money, but someone needs to be there to say ‘no’ to him once in a while. Besides, he has already recommended you for the job.”

“Um…”

“I understand if you need some time to think about it. I do look forward to hearing your reply.”

Even after Darcy thanked Pepper and set down the receiver back in the cradle, she was still reeling from shock. She quickly sent a text to Jane but didn’t get a reply back, either because she was too immersed in her research to notice anything else around her, or she was still in the middle of teaching her seminar class. Darcy put her head down on her desk, trying to process the news. She was aware that this was a big promotion, but she also knew, through the office grapevine, that Tony Stark had already chewed and spat up four Personal Assistants more qualified than her just in the past year alone. She was still pondering the pros and cons when, not even an hour later, her phone rang again.

“Why aren’t you in your office?” the voice asked.

Confused, Darcy replied, “I think you have the wrong number. I don’t have an office.”

“No, I definitely have the right number, Lewis.”

The voice sounded oddly familiar. She furrowed her brows in confusion until it clicked. “Stark?”

“No, it’s just the Dalai Lama checking in. How are you? Really, who do you think it is?”

“What do you want?” she asked suspiciously.

“There are people trying to talk to me about budget reports and annual projection goals in the boardroom. I need you to make them go away.”

“Why?”

“I don’t care about the budget reports. Pepper usually handles them, but she’s out of the country right now.”

“No, why do I have to be the one to make them go away?”

“Because, as my Personal Assistant, it is in your job description to make annoying people go away,” he enunciated slowly, as if she were a small child with a tenuous grasp on basic language. “I thought Pepper already talked to you about this.”

“I’m not your PA. I haven’t accepted the job yet.”

“Too late. Your name’s already engraved on the office door.”

“ _What_ office?”

“ _Your_ office. The job doesn’t come without perks, you know.”

“Is that where you are right now?” There was a guilty silence. “You’re hiding out in an office because you, a grown man, can’t say ‘no’ to your own employees?”

“Whoa! Keep your voice down, Lewis. Do you want the whole company to know? And for the record, it is pretty hard to say ‘no’ to them, especially when they start with the whole ‘oh, but Mr. Stark, the company is your father’s legacy, blah blah blah.’ It gets to be a bit much sometimes, you know?"

“As a plebian who did not inherit a multi-billion dollar company, I’m really not feeling all that sympathetic.”

“Have a heart,” Tony whined. “They’re _really_ boring. I told them I had to use the bathroom, and that was almost twenty minutes ago.”

“Face your fears and you will conquer, dude.”

“What?”

“I’m clearly misquoting, but you get my drift. Basically, put on your big boy pants and tell them to fuck off.” One of her coworkers walked by and gave her a weird look as he caught the last part of the out-of-context conversation. Darcy ducked her head down, avoiding eye-contact, and picked up a pen to pretend like she was jotting down important notes.

“Such eloquence,” Tony said snidely.

“You come up with something better. People are starting to stare, so I’m hanging up now,” she hissed.

“Wait, no—” came the reply as Darcy forcefully put the receiver down. Thirty seconds later, the phone rang again. “Is this about yesterday? I’m usually an asshole to everyone, but if it makes you less grumpy, I can apologize,” Tony babbled, as if he wasn’t cut off earlier.

“Call me grumpy again and see if I do anything for you,” she dared him.

“Okay, fine, but what I need to know is what it will take to get you to help me.”

“Stark,” she started, trying to sound firm, but he interrupted.

“You might as well call me Tony.” She could hear him snapping his fingers in the background. “You want something from the Louboutin fall lineup?”

Darcy’s mouth dropped slightly. “That’s ridiculous—”

“No? Strange. That always makes Pepper happy. How about coffee? You like coffee? Your own coffee maker in your office so you don’t have to compete with the rest of the putzes in the break room. Stark-brand, of course, nothing but the top-of-the-line.”

She hesitated for a fraction of a moment. “You can’t bribe me, you know.”

It was too late; Tony had already noticed that pause. “Of course not,” he said gleefully. Darcy imagined that if they were face to face, he would wink.

“How about if you stop bothering me, I’ll go get rid of the suits that are helping to run your company?” she asked with a weary sigh.

“Done,” Tony snappily agreed before giving her more specific directions and instructions. She took a deep breath and wondered if this was what Jane had meant by “good things”.

 

\---

 

Shooing away the group of board members was surprisingly easy, especially since they were rather unsurprised that Tony Stark had gone MIA. She’d made some vague excuses about a sudden emergency, and they’d all exchanged _a look_ that suggested that he did this to them more often than not. Nonetheless, her task complete, she made her way to “her office”, which was on the fifty-third floor. What she thought would be a white room with four walls and maybe a small window (if she was lucky), she discovered that it was actually less of your typical, boring office, and more of something straight out of some fancy interior design magazine. Just the space was almost larger than her entire apartment. She struggled with trying not to gawk too much.

“What took you so long?” Tony asked when she came in (her name was, indeed, already on the nameplate). He was sprawled on one of the leather couches, tapping furiously on his StarkPad. “I called you over an hour ago.” He sat up abruptly. “Johnson didn’t try to talk to you about his medical condition, did he? He actually showed me pictures! I am scarred for life!”

Darcy gave him a strange look. “No, I haven’t heard or seen anything about medical conditions.” She sent up a silent prayer that she would never have to. “I missed my lunch break for this, you know,” she accused. “So, I went out and grabbed something to eat. I figured you probably haven’t eaten either since you’re a fugitive from your own executives.” She tossed him one of the paper bags she was holding.

He caught it effortlessly and his eyes lit up as he recognized the fast food chain brand printed on the side. Unwrapping the cheeseburger, he bit into it and let loose a pornographic moan. “Oh, we are definitely keeping you. Forget about the probationary period, you’re hired.”

Darcy sat on the smaller, matching loveseat, adjacent to him, and set her own food down. The combination of cheap, greasy food clashed with the very expensive furniture. It seemed a disgrace to violate the elegance of the coffee table. Chewing her own food slowly, she broke the news to him. “I still haven’t accepted the offer yet.”

Tony, somehow, managed to pull off a face that looked like a cross between a kicked puppy and a deranged squirrel with bulged cheeks. “Mmfspsfg.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full. Were you raised in a barn?”

“Mmfsomefinlikedat,” he said in defiance, but he chewed and swallowed. “I thought we agreed on the coffee maker for services rendered.”

“Ugh.” Darcy wrinkled her nose. “One: don’t ever say that again. It sounds wrong, and two: I never actually agreed to that.”

“Alright, you drive a hard bargain, Lewis. Two coffee makers.”

“No, why would I need two coffee makers?”

“Three coffee makers! It’s my final offer.”

She gave him an aggravated look and started to understand why this man had gone through four PAs already. “That’s not the point. Are you even paying attention?”

“I prefer to call it selective awareness.”

“Are you selectively aware that you’re exasperating?”

“Only if it gets me what I want.”

Darcy settled back into the insanely comfortable seat. “You can’t pester someone into taking a job. I don’t even know why you want to hire me.”

“You brought me a burger. I’m already half in love with you.”

“Really? It only takes fast food to buy your love?”

“I’m easy,” he replied with a cheeky tilt of his head.

“Seriously, Tony. It’s not like there aren’t other more capable candidates lined up outside your door.”

“Fine, let me ask you this: why not work for me? You get great health benefits, pay raise, your own office.” He waved an arm, gesturing to spacious room they were in. “And bragging rights.” He stopped to pull a piece of pickle out from between the layers.

Darcy considered the reasons laid out before her, very much aware that all the pros outweighed the cons, but her self-consciousness kept her focused on all the things that could go wrong. “Um, because I have no qualifications, no experience, and I’m pretty sure we would annoy each other to death.

“Pepper already looked into all the boring stuff: education, internships, and all that.” Seeing Darcy’s unconvinced expression, he continued. “She read some of your write-ups and she liked them. She had a few calls made and found several recommendations from your Culver professors. If she didn’t think you were competent, she wouldn’t have approved.”

“You guys stalked me?”

“You work for Stark Industries; we invade everyone’s privacy. You should know this by now.” She rolled her eyes but was hardly surprised by this. “Pepper also mentioned something about how your Political Science background, and I quote,” he adopted a breathy, higher pitch, “‘will help you understand the different political and social nuances that influence the company, and in turn, will allow you to make well-informed decisions’.”

“Wow,” she said, slightly dazed at the fact that they actually found a use for her degree.

“But, honestly, Lewis, I already employ enough people who would throw their own mother under the bus if it meant getting a leg up in the company. I don’t need another ass kisser following me around. You run your mouth, but at least you’re honest.”

“I’m supposed to believe I’m the only person who calls you out on your bullshit?”

“Take my last assistant, for example. If I had told him that the sky was green, he would have nodded and agreed with me.”

“A lot of bosses don’t like to hear that they’re wrong.” Darcy shrugged. “It’s a tough job market; you do what you can to hold onto a job.”

“Was yesterday what you call ‘holding onto a job’?”

“I was having a bad day and you were being an ass. Besides, I have a terrible habit of sticking my foot in my mouth.”

Tony grinned. “Me too! See? We’re getting along beautifully.” He had already finished off his burger and was in the process of opening the small ketchup packets for his fries.

She reached forward and snagged one of his fries. He made a noise of displeasure and tried to swat her hand away. “Hey, I paid for them so I’m entitled to steal some.”

“You have your own,” he protested.

“Yeah, but food is more delicious when they’ve been taken from someone else. It’s a law of nature.”

“Savage,” he muttered, shaking his head, but then, with lightening speed, he grabbed a handful of Darcy’s fries and shoved them into his mouth before she could react. She threw a decorative pillow at him while he laughed manically. “You’re right; they do taste better.”

“I only grabbed one from you! You grabbed all of mine!”

“You started it,” Tony countered with all the maturity of a five-year-old.

“See? Annoy each other to death. And those were the last of my fries!”

“As long as you don’t tell Pepper I’ve been eating junk food, I will buy you more.”

“I’m holding you to that.” Then, she added, “and get your feet off my furniture.”

Tony smirked triumphantly. “Is that a yes to the job offer?”

Darcy took a deep breath and shot him her best smile, hoping she wasn’t making a mistake of epic proportions. “You were saying something about my own coffee maker?”

 

\---

 

The sound of the front door opening and closing alarmed Winter as she flicked her tail and turned her head to look at Bucky who was currently spread lazily on the couch, his good arm tucked beneath his head. They were both enjoying a good laze in the mid-afternoon sun that streamed through the large window in the small living area. Bucky closed his eyes and pretended he was sleeping as he heard Steve shuffling around the apartment. A moment later, Steve flopped in the chair to the right of the couch, but didn’t say anything. They continued this pretense for a while until Steve, finally impatient, said, “I know you’re not asleep so you can quit that now.”

Bucky cracked open an eye to see Steve sitting with his arms crossed. Bucky felt a twinge of guilt; it had been an icy week between the two of them. They’d avoided each other whenever possible ever since Bucky had come home to confront Steve about sneaking around his back and talking to Tony, of all people.

“I’m not going to apologize,” Steve started, “for telling Tony or Rebecca.”

Bucky blew out a breath as he remembered the uncomfortable phone conversation with his sister a few days ago when she’d called him. “Christ, Bucky!” she’d yelled. “You’re supposed to be the older, mature one! If Steve didn’t tell me, I wouldn’t know anything!” He could tell that she was crying while she was shouting and he had felt terrible, but their tempers escalated, and they both fought until they were both exhausted and raspy-voiced. Before had hung up, she’d given him a last piece of advice. “We all care about you, Bucky,” she whispered with a hiccup. “Don’t forget that. And go easy on Steve. He’s just worried.”

Right now though, Steve looked exhausted, the dark shadows under his eyes marked more than one sleepless night. “I did it because I thought they would be able to help you.” The _because you won’t let me_ was unspoken, but it still hung in the air between them.

Bucky sat up and ran his fingers through his long hair. “Steve—” Winter butted her head gently against his leg, asking to be picked up. He settled her on his lap and gently ran his hand over her soft fur.

“Let me finish because I won’t bring this up again, if you don’t want me to. I know it’s not easy, but I want you to remember that I’m with you ‘til the end of the line.”

“I know,” Bucky said, his shame roiling in his stomach because he knew Steve was always there for him, and Bucky had thrown it in his face. There was a silence as the two had reached an impasse. “I’m trying. I can feel myself slowly getting better.” He paused to lick his dry lips. “But, I had another panic attack the other day,” he confessed.

“When?” Steve became instantly concerned.

“When I went to see Tony. I knocked someone over and it all kind of went to shit after that.”

“Are you okay?” he asked hesitantly. “Were they okay?”

“Yeah, she was okay,” he said, recalling Darcy’s bright smile and shining eyes. “She was fine. Helped me find my way and everything, but…” he shook his head, “I’m terrified that one of these days, I’m going to snap and end up doing something I regret.”

“You wouldn’t—”

“I haven’t yet,” he corrected. “It doesn’t mean it’s not going to happen.” He didn’t tell Steve that some days he felt like he was making progress, but other days, he was barely holding himself together. It was unfair to burden Steve when he already did so much for him.

“I know you’ve said ‘no’ to support groups, but Sam runs a really great one through the VA. They really help.”

Bucky nodded even though he didn’t feel like sitting around and talking about his feelings with a group of strangers. It was hard enough opening up to this therapist, but the number of mandated visits was winding down, and he couldn’t see how he could afford to keep paying her on his own dime afterwards. “I’ll think about it,” he promised.

Winter, seeming to sense Bucky’s misery, chose that moment to rub her head under his chin, her purrs vibrating against his chest. It tickled and he gave a short laugh of surprise.

“Well, it’s nice to see she actually likes someone around here,” Steve remarked dryly as Winter opened her eyes to glare at him.

“She likes you too,” Bucky protested.

“She barely tolerates me, but at least she’s stopped swiping at my ankles.”

In the past several months, Steve had gotten used to living with a cat. He learned fairly quickly not to leave any of his books or art supplies lying around the apartment because Winter had an appetite for destroying those. Apparently, she was getting better at jumping and climbing with only three legs because he came home one night to find several of his _Discworld_ novels shredded into pieces, even though he left them on a high shelf. Luckily, it was only a few of the paperback books and not his entire series, so they were easily replaced.

Bucky had tried to make a joke out of it. “If we’d gotten a dog, it would chew on your shoes,” he’d said with a sheepish shrug. But, Steve decided if the cat made his best friend happy, then he could sacrifice a few books and pencils.

Bucky lifted the cat out of his lap and stood up to get a glass of water from the kitchen. When he’d sat back down again, Steve was watching a smart-talking detective show on TV. The conversation from before was clearly over, much to Bucky’s relief. He sipped his water and gently pushed Winter’s face away when she hovered too close, trying to get a drink from his glass. She was not dissuaded and meowed in irritation.

Early on, both Bucky and Steve found out that they couldn’t leave any sort of beverages unattended because Winter had a tendency to either shove her face into it or, if the container was too narrow for her, dip her paw into the liquid. She hated her water bowl and preferred to drink from a glass or a mug that one of them had drank out of already, much to everyone’s annoyance.

Winter finally bothered him enough that he got a shallow, wide mug from the kitchen cabinet and filled with fresh water. After taking a sip from it, he left the rest on the floor for Winter before returning to join Steve.

 

\---

 

Bad habits aside, it seemed that Winter’s quirks were endless entertainment for their friends. A week later, during poker night, while everyone sat around the kitchen table with their cards held in hand, Winter decided she was more curious than she was afraid of everyone and emerged silently from hiding.

Sam was the first to notice. “Your cat’s giving me the creeps,” he said. Everyone turned to see Winter standing in doorway where she was staring intently at them. But, now that she had been discovered, she sat down and gave a bored yawn that showed off her sharp fangs.

“Huh, this is the first time I’ve actually seen your cat,” Natasha observed as she leaned over to get a better look.

“She doesn’t usually like people.” Bucky put his hand out to try and lure Winter closer, but she scuttled under the table instead.

“Feet up!” Steve ordered and everyone immediately readjusted into cross-legged campfire sitting.

Clint, however, was up and rummaging through one of their cupboards. He pulled out a bag of cat treats and shook it to attract Winter’s attention. “Here, kitty, kitty,” he said in a sing-song voice. He fed Winter a few treats and she rewarded him by letting him pet her.

“You might want to make sure Clint hasn’t smuggled your cat home by the end of the night,” Sam said as he threw a couple of poker chips into the pile.

“Fair point,” Bucky said. “Clint, get your own cat!”

Clint turned his eyes pleadingly to his girlfriend. “Nat, can we—”

“No.”

Everyone else laughed as Clint pouted, but he finally tore his attention away from Winter to sit back down and resume playing. Winter wandered around the kitchen, weaving between the chair legs, waiting for them to drop any chips and snacks. Her patience was rewarded when Steve dropped a Dorito which she quickly pounced on.

“For only having three legs, she’s speedy,” Sam observed.

“Have you thought about getting a leg built for her? You two could match. She could be your mini-me,” Clint suggested.

“She adapts pretty easily,” Bucky replied. “I’m also fairly certain she would hate having a prosthetic. She already doesn’t like the collar, but I keep it on her just in case she ever gets out.”

Clint didn’t seem to have heard Bucky. “Heh. Terminator cat,” he chuckled to himself, still fixated on the image of Robo-Cat.

Natasha pinned a dirty look on Bucky, as if to say _it’s your fault you put that idea into his head now._ Thankfully, everyone let the conversation drift into other non-cat-related topics.

“By the way, I won’t be here for the next poker night,” Sam announced. “So, if you guys want to invite someone else in my place, feel free to.”

“Where are you going?” Steve asked.

“D.C.,” he replied, putting his cards down. “I fold. Anyways, I’m doing a training seminar with some of the counselors with the VA down there.”

“Was there someone you wanted to replace you?” Natasha asked evenly, her expression guarded as she regarded her hand of cards.

“Nah, I just thought I’d throw it out there. My feelings wouldn’t be hurt.”

There was a lull before Clint chimed in. “What about Stark?” Everyone looked at him in surprise.

“What? Tony Stark?” Sam said in slight disbelief. “The rich inventor that was just on Forbes’ cover earlier this year? That guy?”

“Yeah, I’ve met the guy a couple times when Bucky was first getting his arm. He seems alright.”

Sam whistled. “I knew you hung out with a ritzy crowd, Barton, but I had no idea you rubbed shoulders with billionaires.”

“Just because I teach at a private school doesn’t mean I get along with all of the bluebloods and posh people,” Clint said with a hint of warning.

“And you really think Tony Stark has nothing better to do than come play cards with us?”

“I’m just saying it can’t hurt to ask the guy. Don’t be such a snob. Besides, Steve and Bucky know him too.”

“Alright, alright, don’t get your panties in a twist. I have nothing against the guy. It’s not like I’ll be here to meet him,” Sam shrugged.

“I’m okay with Stark as long as everyone else is,” Natasha said before laying down a straight flush. Everyone else grumbled as they threw down their own cards.

“I suppose he could be entertaining,” Steve acquiesced. “But Bucky knows him better than any of us, so maybe the invitation would be best coming from him.”

Bucky swallowed nervously as he realized that he would have to go apologize for taking his anger out on Tony. He was regretful of his outburst and he had really meant to go back and say sorry in person, but he’d been putting off. “I don’t know. He’s probably busy.”

“It’s not that hard to just call and invite him,” Natasha pointed out.

He shook his head and decided that he needed to bite the bullet. “No, I’ll ask him in person. I’ve got a day off the day after tomorrow.”

After his left arm had been functional, Bucky had tried to keep busy with odd jobs here and there. His main source of work was the small, corner, grocery shop down the street that employed him a couple days a week to stock shelves and mop floors. He knew that the elderly Mr. Jones had a soft spot for him and gave him a job out of kindness rather than necessity.

They played a couple more hands with Natasha winning most of them. They had forgotten about the cat until Winter reappeared on Natasha’s lap.

“She’s sitting on you!” Clint excitedly exclaimed, making everyone else jump. “How did you get her to sit on you?”

The group collectively groaned and laughed as Clint decided that playing with the cat was way more fun than losing at poker.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **References:**  
>  -Discworld series by Terry Pratchett  
>  **Author Notes:**  
>  HAVE I TOLD YOU GUYS THAT YOU'RE FANTASTIC YET? BECAUSE YOU ALL ARE AMAZING PEOPLE! All your wonderful stories about your pets kept me going! 
> 
> So, no Bucky and Darcy interaction in this chapter, but on the other hand, Darcy and Tony snark! Also, Winter is a little shit and I love it. I am totally Clint, by the way. I would way rather party with the cat than play poker with my buddies. 
> 
> Curious question: what pet peeves do you have when you’re reading fanfic? Any clichés that you don’t like?
> 
> Thank you for all the astounding support and wonderful stories about your pets! As always, feedback is always welcome and very much appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

“What is this?”

“It’s a sandwich. You know, the thing with bread on the outside and the good stuff on the inside. I would have thought someone with multiple degrees from MIT would be able to tell what a sandwich is.”

“I know what a sandwich is, Lewis. I want to know what it’s doing on my work bench.”

“Oh, it gained sentience and decided it was interested in advanced mechanical engineering so it’s learning. Honestly, what do you think?”

Tony gave Darcy a long-suffering look. “I want a burrito today.”

“You’re not getting a burrito,” she said firmly without glancing up. “Eat the sandwich.”

He reluctantly picked it up, but finding no obvious fault with it, he bit into it. “It needs more mayonnaise,” he grumbled after chewing thoughtfully.

“You complained about too much mayonnaise last time.”

“This one barely has any mayonnaise in it.” Tony shook the sandwich for emphasis which only left a shower of crumbs over the front of his shirt. “The mayonnaise to bread ratio is crucial.”

Darcy looked up from her phone. “Tony, there is the exact same amount of mayonnaise in that sandwich as last time. I got it from the same deli and I watched them make it. Now, quit moaning or I’m feeding you kale chips next time.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, but he clearly took the threat seriously and managed to finish his sandwich without much more yammering before turning back to the blueprint hologram he had been modifying. Darcy, who was perched at one of his other work tables, finished sending an email.

Taking a sip from her cup, she grimaced at the coffee that had now gone cold. She sighed longingly for her shiny, chrome coffee machine that was currently sitting over fifty floors above them. Despite having an office, Darcy didn’t actually get to use it a lot. Her schedule revolved around Tony so she ended up spending most of her time with him, even outside of her regular work hours.

Tony was self-centered and exasperating, and would not hesitate to call at 3 a.m. if he was bored or if he needed her to hold a flashlight because, “the bots won’t stop fidgeting, no matter how many times I threatened to donate them as spare parts to the community college, and Pepper’s already mad at me for waking her up.” However, Tony was also surprisingly intuitive and even considerate, at times, despite the flippantly casual attitude that he approached everything with. He cared and he had strong opinions about nearly everything. She respected the fact he was a man of hidden depths and emotions, first impressions aside, and he seemed to appreciate her attitude and work.

Today, Tony was holed up in the workshop, building some complicated part, and Darcy used the opportunity to sit and actually catch up on correspondence. There were some days when Tony would be in one his whimsical moods and he’d drag Darcy out to go shopping (“how many pocket squares do you really need, Tony?”) or, more recently, a luxury car show (“don’t lean on the Maserati, Lewis!").

It was exhausting to keep up with him, but she got along with Tony better than she had expected, even if their conversations were usually full of playful jibes and sarcasm. Their relationship was quickly comfortable, as if she had known him much longer than a month. Some of his erratic patterns, she had figured out, and some still remained a mystery. She’d found that “eccentric” did not even start to describe Tony Stark. Despite his neediness though, she liked the challenge of the job and Tony’s company.

There was a chirp and she turned to see Dum-E offering a mug with fresh, black sludge in it. “Thanks, buddy.” She accepted it gratefully and put it down on the surface in front of her without any intentions of drinking it. Even though Dum-E’s coffee left something to be desired, she still appreciated the sentiment. She patted his arm and he let out a series of beeps of happiness before racing back over to where Butterfingers and You were amusing themselves by stacking empty paint and grease cans until the tower toppled over.

“Stop encouraging him,” Tony called out. “He’ll just make more of that toxic waste and try to force it on everyone.”

“I think it’s sweet that he tries. Don’t tell me you’re jealous of the attention.”

“I am not jealous of a robot that I built when I was seventeen,” he intoned indignantly.

“Yeah, yeah, we all know you had the childhood of a comic book villain.”

“When I take over the world, you’ll want to be on my good side,” he warned.

“If you take over the world, I expect you’ll just make Pepper run it.”

“True,” he reluctantly admitted, “but, at least let me pick out a cool supervillain name before you spoil my fun.”

“I would suggest ‘Doctor Evil’ but that one’s already taken, and you technically don’t hold the qualifications to be called a doctor.”

“Har har,” he said unenthusiastically before muttering, “worst sidekick ever.”

“Hey, I heard that, and I am insulted that you would cast me as the sidekick.”

“I’d think you’d make a fabulously incompetent henchman. Henchwoman? Is that a word? Never mind. I’ll just stick to minion.”

“No way.” Darcy said, rolling her eyes. “I would be the _femme fatale_ who is wily enough to escape with the secrets when the villain is defeated in the end.”

“What makes you think I won’t drag you down with me? It’s pretty hard to be _femme fatale_ when you’re dressed in an orange jumpsuit and behind bars.”

“Clearly, you’ve never heard of Catwoman.”

“Oh, trust me, I have more than just heard of her,” he smirked.

“You do know she’s fictional,” she said.

“The actress isn’t,” he said, but then quickly added, “before I met Pepper, of course.”

“Ugh! Spare me the nightmares from the stories of your former lady killer days, grandpa.”

“Grandpa!?” he choked, and actually put down the holographic piece. “First of all, how dare you? Second, I am still a lady killer. Present tense. I’ve still got it.”

Darcy stared at him for several seconds. “Yeah, I don’t see it,” she said while holding back a grin, just to annoy him.

Tony threw his hands in the air and glanced up, as if looking for divine intervention to save him from her impertinence. She laughed and affectionately chucked a stray bolt at his head, which he easily dodged. Dum-E got excited by what he thought was a new game of fetch and abandoned his stacking game in search of the fallen part. “You know I’m joking,” she said earnestly. “Someone needs to make sure your ego doesn’t get too big.”

“Not why I hired you.”

“Really? Because I’m fairly certain that’s why Pepper hired me.”

“My PA and my girlfriend are plotting against me. It’s almost a soap opera storyline.”

“Not until you discover that your twin brother, who you thought died on that cruise accident, is not actually dead and has come back to seek his revenge.”

He threw back his head in a laugh. “I don’t want to know what goes on in your head, Darcy,” he said fondly… well, as fondly as Tony Stark was capable of.

She shrugged. “I saw it on the cover of Soap Opera Digest.” Her phone vibrated with an incoming message and she snapped to attention. “Ooh, I’ve been waiting for this. Stop distracting me,” she ordered. It was the email from the florist that had arrived, confirming the order she had placed earlier that week.

In addition to being Tony’s professional babysitter, Darcy also found out that in the small print of her job was also the responsibility of overseeing the preparation of the Maria Stark Foundation’s annual charity event. It was less than three months away, and apparently, trying to book the coveted catering chef, Georges Batroc, in that time frame was near impossible. She wasn’t sure why she had to be the one to organize it, seeing as the Foundation employed a sizable number of people, but it seemed she was the one stuck with the job.

She sighed and looked down to admire the expensive Jimmy Choo stilettos she wearing. Pepper had sent them to her along with a note that had congratulated Darcy for surviving the first week. She only later realized that they were actually bribe shoes when they dropped the details on the charity event on her the day after. At least Pepper had given her a binder with receipts and notes from previous years that helped give Darcy a direction to go in. Tony’s only advice had been to order the good champagne and brandy and to keep it flowing because, apparently, it wasn’t really a successful party until the upper echelons of New York society was drunk.

She was interrupted by her ringing phone, the caller ID displaying the receptionist from upstairs. “I have a Mr. James Barnes here who is requesting to see Mr. Stark. He doesn’t have an appointment. Shall I send him away?”

“One moment,” Darcy said and muffled the phone against her shoulder. “Hey, Tony, someone named Barnes is here. You want to see him?”

Tony lifted his head in slight surprise. “Yeah, send him down.”

“Down here in the shop?” Darcy asked. “Or, do you want to see him in one the offices?”

“Here’s fine.”

Returning to the phone, she relayed her message. “Ask him if he wouldn’t mind coming down to the sub-basement workshop. Mr. Stark will see him.” Then, as an afterthought she added, “but make someone escorts him if he doesn’t know the way. It’s easy to get lost in these hallways. Thank you, Judy.”

Hopping off the stool, Darcy stretched her arms above her in a much needed reprieve from her hunched over position from the last hour. “What are you doing?” Tony asked when he noticed her gathering the mess of papers and shuffling them into her messenger bag.

“Packing up. I thought this was obvious.”

“Where are you going?”

“To my office so you can have your meeting with Mr. Barnes.” She didn’t know who he was, but if Tony trusted him enough to let him in the workshop, she should probably give them some privacy.

“You don’t have to leave for Barnes. In fact, meeting someone new will probably do him some good. Also, he was pretty mad at me last time, so you can be a witness if he tries to murder me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I know you make a joke out it, but you’ve pissed off enough nut jobs that one of them is probably crazy to going to stroll in here with an axe one day.”

“I would hope I die in a more dignified way than being hacked to pieces.”

“’Dignified’ has a much lower standard when it comes to you,” she snorted. “I need to make some phone calls upstairs, but I can come back in an hour if your separation anxiety gets to be too much,” she reassured him.

“Promise you won’t abandon me?” he asked with an exaggerated pout.

“You pay me way too much for me to do that. I’ll consider it when all my student loans are paid off, though.”

Tony started saying something, but Darcy, determined to have the last word, rushed out before he could finish. He made a rude hand gesture through the glass door as she laughed waved at him.

Yeah, working for Tony Stark was much more fun than she cared to admit to his face.

 

\---

 

Bucky had meant to go back to Stark Industries sooner, but the day he had planned to go, the pipes had sprung a leak in the basement of the building, and he had spent most of his day alternating between fixing it and arguing with the landlord on the phone. After that, he kept putting it off until Steve had casually asked him over breakfast one morning if he’d invited Tony to poker night yet, and Bucky had to admit he hadn’t.

Tony was rummaging through a set of drawers when he looked up to see Bucky come in. He motioned Bucky over to a stool across the room. “Oh, good! You’re here. Let’s take a look at the arm.” He grabbed of complicated-looking tools and turned back to face him. “Why aren’t you sitting?” he asked when Bucky hadn’t moved.

“Uh,” Bucky licked his dry lips. “Actually, I came by to apologize about the way I reacted last time. I wasn’t actually planning on staying long.”

Tony looked at him with a blank expression as if he had forgotten all about their last, angry encounter. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, brushing it off casually.

“I realize that you had good intentions and I overreacted.”

“I know. I get it,” Tony said simply but, thankfully, didn’t push. “Anyways, I managed to update the program for the arm, and it should help with sensitivity to temperature.” He impatiently waved at Bucky to sit again. Clearly, Tony wasn’t going to let it go, so Bucky perched on the chair as he reached out with eager hands and pushed the sleeve of Bucky’s shirt up to run diagnostics. “So, what else have you been doing while you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” he denied. “I’ve been busy.”

Tony turned back to flip his arm over so that the 3D display could be rendered. “Sure, Pinocchio,” he said dryly.

Bucky exhaled a short sigh. “I’ve been thinking of joining a new gym," he admitted. "I used to go to Saul’s but he retired and sold the place. Sam says I need to find sort of physical outlet again.”

Tony nodded in agreement. “You can always use more strengthening practice to make sure the prosthetic stays synchronized to your nerve activity.” Then, after a thought, “you can use the gym here.”

“Here? I can’t do that.”

“Why not? I’ve got more than one gym in this building.”

“I was hoping for something a little closer to where I live.”

“I can offer you free membership and a private place to work out without anyone to bother you. Or, if you want a trainer, I can get someone who won’t ask personal questions since you seem to hate the idea of discussing anything that remotely relates to your time spent in the military.”

“I don’t hate it,” he defended, even though Tony was partially right. It wasn’t an easy subject to talk about with anyone.

One of the robots moved over to hover around them, focused on the metal arm, before Tony swatted at it with affectionate annoyance. “Yes, I know it’s pretty! I made it! Now, go away.” Drooping at the rejection, it rolled away sadly to another corner of the workshop.

Their conversation drifted into other topics, mostly with Tony talking about his new PA and some upcoming charity event; Bucky was only half-listening. There were several wires hooked up to the interior components of the arm and Tony was programming the software on his StarkPad.

Tony suddenly pressed something that made Bucky’s left arm go numb. Bucky jerked in response and Tony stilled him. “Relax, I just need to shut down some of the sensors while they upgrade.” He rearranged the array of cables until he was happy with the digital outputs before he turned back to coding on the StarkPad. “How’s the three-legged terror?” Tony asked, drawing Bucky’s attention away from the unnerving sensation.

Bucky took a deep breath and gradually relaxed the tensed muscles in shoulders. “Uh, fine, I suppose. She has been hiding a lot less.” This also meant Winter was also bothering his best friend a lot more. “Steve’s not exactly thrilled,” he muttered.

“Yeah, I never pegged Captain Handsome to be the cat type, or you either, for that matter. Different strokes for different folks, I guess,” he contemplated with a shrug.

“I would offer to move out and get Winter out of his life, but every time I try to bring up the subject of leaving, he looks like I just kicked a puppy. Besides, I can’t afford the rent on my own, so I haven’t really pushed too hard.” Tony opened his mouth but Bucky cut him off. “Don’t even think about offering to let me stay with you. This isn’t _Pretty Woman_.”

Tony laughed but held up his hands in mock surrender. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Then, pretending to consider it, he asked, “how much are your street corner rates anyways?”

Bucky snorted. “Expensive.”

“My favorite,” Tony grinned.

He cleared his throat. “Actually, speaking of money, uh, a few of us have this poker night, We mostly play for fun, but if you wanted—”

“Sure.”

“Really?” Bucky had expected Tony to play coy at first and then ultimately decide that he had much better things to do.

“Well, don’t sound so surprised. You just invited me, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t actually think that you’d actually say yes.”

“Pepper did say I was becoming a bit of a hermit lately.”

"There’s a few of us, and you’ve already met Steve and Clint, but we mostly just sit around the kitchen table—”

“Say no more, Barnes. You had me at ‘fun’. I usually charge for public appearances, but for you, I’m feeling generous.”

“Lucky me,” Bucky snorted.

“All right, that should be it,” Tony said, finishing up. “It’s going to feel different for a bit. The temp sensors will gradually come on over the next day or two so you’re not overwhelmed by the change.” He disengaged the wires and pushed the equipment over to one side where one of the more competent robots had started to put it away.

Bucky slowly flexed his hand a few times, testing out any differences, silently grateful that he was able to do this. He remembered the early stages and slow progress of when he had to undergo various sessions of therapy just to relearn how to curl his fingers together. He rolled his sleeve back down again, covering up out of habit. It wasn’t that Bucky hadn’t accepted that he was now missing an arm, but he it was not something he liked to advertise. The prosthetic gave him some degree of his functions back, but it drew attention to the fact that it was gone and he would rather not have people treat him awkwardly because of it.

“Don’t mind me, I just forgot the press release forms,” a new voice announced. He looked up and froze as Darcy recognized him. “Bucky,” she greeted with a wide smile, seeming genuinely pleased to see him.

He shoved his left hand behind his back. “You’re here,” he said in reply, surprised to see her again. “I mean, yes, of course you’re here,” he said as he mentally groaned. “You work here.” He mentally winced at his lack of finesse. He used to be good at talking, or so he remembered. Since his accident, he'd found himself seeming to lack the right words at times. 

“Yeah, I didn’t get fired! They did punish me by making me Tony’s assistant though,” she said laughingly. “I didn’t realize _you_ were James Barnes though. I would have come down to save you much sooner if I’d known.”

“I needed to—” he stopped short when he realized he was about to tell her that Tony was fixing his arm. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

Thankfully, Tony cut in. “It’s like I’m not even here,” he called out because he was a needy puppy and had to be the center of attention. “I would introduce you two, but it looks like you already know each other.” He stared at both of them suspiciously, which with Tony, was never a good sign. He turned to Darcy. “You never mentioned about knowing him,” he said, pointing his thumb in Bucky’s direction.

Darcy raised an eyebrow. “I try to keep your craziness separate from the rest of my life.”

“And you,” Tony turned to accuse Bucky. “Don’t distract her. I have five hundred bucks down on her lasting at least six months as my PA, so don’t mess this up.”

Darcy, who had moved to grab a file off of one of the tables, snorted. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Boss.”

“Eyes on the prize, Lewis. A few idiots in R&D didn’t think you’d last the week, but you’re still here.”

“Sometimes, I wonder why,” she sighed.

“You are the envy of straight women and gay men everywhere.”

“I’ll be sure to mention it next time I see them,” Darcy replied with a sarcastic quirk of her lips. “But only if it’s within the six-month frame.”

“Don’t worry about it, Lewis. I’m willing to keep you on as assistant for much longer. I just need to win the office betting pool first.”

“Fine, but we split winnings 50-50,” she conceded. She turned to Bucky and was about to say something else when Tony interrupted.

“Actually, Lewis, I’m going to need coffee. Could you bring me some?” Tony asked, but in his usual way that was more “telling” and less “requesting”. At the mention of coffee, the bot Tony had snapped at earlier perked up. “No, yours isn’t fit for human consumption.”

“Right now? You keep a coffee maker in here for the very reason of not having to wait for someone to get one for you.”

“Yeah, but right now, I’m really craving something over-sugared and disgusting, and you are a connoisseur when it comes to diabetes masquerading as coffee.”

Darcy was not entirely convinced as she stared at Tony. “Fine, but I’m getting one for myself too and you’re not allowed to make fun of me while I drink it, Plankton.”

“Igor!” Tony called back. After she left, he rounded on Bucky. “Okay, Tin Man, what’s the story with Lewis?”

“Nothing,” he said, projecting innocence that had charmed even the crankiest of the nuns at Catholic school. “I’ve only met her once.” He tugged on his gloves, glad that today was a cool enough day that it wasn’t out of place to be wearing them.

“No, I’ve seen you hold a conversation with Pepper after you’ve met her once, and you did fine. That, back there, was different.” Tony was like a bloodhound that was relentless whenever he sniffed out something Bucky was adamant in avoiding.

He scowled when Tony’s attention was distracted, but then tried to look as indifferent as possible when Tony turned around again. “She just surprised me.”

“Yeah, we know how easily you spook these days, but really, that was just embarrassing to watch. Don’t tell me you’re losing your touch.”

“Tony…” he warned as he sensed where this was headed.

“No pressure, Barnes, but I happen to know that Pepper has a lot of attractive, single friends.”

“No.”

“Okay, they’re not all Pepper’s friends, but the point is that I can easily contact them or you could—”

“Tony, let it go,” he said through gritted teeth, making it clear the topic was finished. Bucky blew out a breath, hoping that Tony would take a hint. He’d already had to explain to Natasha to stop trying to set him with random women; he didn’t feel like repeating the conversation again.

“Fine.” Tony raised his hands in surrender, but he looked disappointed that Bucky wouldn’t let him finish. “But come use my gym because you really do need some sort way of blowing off steam, and if it’s not going to be that,” Tony said with a pointed downward look towards Bucky’s crotch, “it might as well be punching something.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Think hard about it.” The door to the workshop swung open again and Darcy swept in, holding a cardboard tray of drinks. “That was fast,” Tony remarked.

“I called from the elevator and they ran it over. Name dropping 'Stark Tower' will apparently get you all sorts perks.” She handed Tony one of the containers that looked like it was filled more with whipped cream than actual liquid. “You'd better drink this.” Then, to Bucky, she offered a Styrofoam cup of black coffee as well. “Sorry, I don’t know how you take it,” she apologized.

“Thanks,” he said, accepting it graciously.

“Actually, on second thought, I changed my mind.” Tony shoved his own clear, plastic drink into Bucky’s hand and grabbed the regular coffee from the other. “Here you go. Drink this,” he ordered.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, but he chose not say anything about the swap. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Thanks for the coffee,” he nodded at Darcy. Then, to Tony, he said, “I guess I’ll see you next week.”

“Please contain your enthusiasm,” Tony replied dramatically, but nodded at him as he left.

 

\---

 

Bucky was waiting for the elevator when he heard Darcy cry out. “Wait!” She came dashing around the corner, and seeing that he was calmly standing there, she straightened up and tried to hide that she’d been running. “I’m going up too. I thought I would join you,” she said casually.

“Sure,” he said, taking a step to the side. They waited in silence for what seemed like the world’s slowest elevator to reach them.

“How is being Tony’s PA anyways?” he inquired after he’d searched his brain for something to break the stillness.

“He’s like a toddler that can’t be left alone for too long, but other than that, it’s better than most people would expect,” she shrugged.

“He’s not so bad once you get to know him,” he reassured. “Although, some days, I take back it back,” he added with a grin. The elevator doors finally opened with a ding and they stepped in it.

“Have you known Tony for long?” Darcy asked.

“Long enough,” Bucky said, but then, feeling like he might have been too brusque, added, “a little over a year. I see him every now and then.”

“I guess that means I’ll be seeing a lot more of you,” she said pleasantly. She flushed, as if realizing what she’d just said. “I mean, I manage Tony’s schedule and you’ve got meetings booked all over the calendar,” she explained.

“Yeah, you’ll be seeing me,” he said quietly, trying to think of something other than the prickling awareness of how close she was to him right now. He wondered if her hair still smelled like vanilla and coconut. Bucky shoved his hand in his pockets (the other one still holding the plastic cup), and focused on the numbers counting up.

“I’m glad you found your way today,” she said softly.

Bucky stiffened, but he forced his tone to be light as he said, “a security guard showed me down, but he wasn’t as good a tour guide as you.”

She laughed. “He wasn’t a hugger then?”

“No, the guy looked more like a crusher." He gave a wry smile.

She shifted the file she had tucked under one arm and Bucky, from his own personal experience, realized she was nervous. “So, listen, I just wanted to say, um, that if you need anything...” Bucky turned to look at her properly for the first time since they’d gotten into the elevator. He caught her gaze, her eyes wide and earnest, before she snapped back to staring straight ahead of her. “That is,” she tried again, “if you’re ever feeling trapped or you just need another hug... I’m not saying that you have to or anything,” she babbled before she shut her mouth with an audible click.

A voice reminded him that she didn’t know what a mess he was, but another part of him wanted to take her up on her offer. “I am here if you need anything,” she continued when he had still not replied. He still wasn’t sure what to say as he continued to stare at her when the elevator door opened. “This is your floor," Darcy exclaimed, a touch too eager to exit the awkward conversation. "Thanks for stopping by!” She all but pushed him out.

When he turned back, her face was pink as she impatiently tapped the button to close the doors, but she gave him a quicksilver flash of a smile, as if to let him know everything was okay between them.

He smiled back, but by that time, the doors had already slid shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **References:**  
>  -Dr. Evil from _Austin Powers_  
>  -Plankton, the nemesis from _Spongebob Square Pants ___  
> -Igor, a stock character assistant to villains, typically in Gothic horrors  
>  - _Pretty Woman_ \- 1990 film starring Julia Roberts and Richard Gere
> 
>  **Author’s Note:**  
>  Apologies for the rather long wait there. A few things have taken priority in my life: I have been dealing with some back pain that won’t let me sit for long periods of time and I have a new job that has been eating up my time and energy. (Adulthood is hard!)
> 
> Nonetheless, I assure you that even if it seems like I haven’t updated in a while, I am simply busy or slow (probably both). 
> 
> Thank you for all of your wonderful support and reviews. I don’t think I could have done it without you guys. Each review really brightened up my day, and there have been quite a few days in the last couple of months that needed brightening, so all my love to you for that!
> 
> Your continued supported, as always, is appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

Whatever it was that Darcy had planned to be doing on Thursday night, having Tony call her to bring him a movie was not exactly what she had pictured. 

“You want me to bring your movie now? Really?” She turned the volume down on the rerun episode of _My Cat From Hell_ to make sure she’d heard him clearly. 

“You borrowed it last and still haven’t given it back,” came his voice from over the phone. 

Darcy glanced over at the pile of DVDs that were currently sitting beside the TV. _The Man of Iron_ was currently sitting on top of it, where she’d left it last. “Aren’t you supposed to be playing cards?”

“I keep losing,” he said. “We’ve moved on.”

“Then, can’t you rent it on pay-per-view or, I don’t know, try Netflix?” 

He made a noise of disgust. “None of them have the additional special features and commentary.”

“I’m sure your new friends don’t need the extra deleted scenes and footage to be impressed.” 

“I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t an emergency.”

“Your definition of ‘emergency’ desperately needs to be adjusted.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but _someone_ here—” he raised his voice to whoever this someone was on the other end, “—has a severe gap in his knowledge of the modern world and that needs to be rectified. Tonight.” Darcy rolled her eyes. She could hear muffled protesting and Tony trying to hush them. 

“I’m already in my pajamas and have absolutely no plans to move from my couch for the rest of the night,” Darcy said, smoothing her fingers over Atticus’s soft head. “Plus, there’s a sleeping cat on me and he’s not going to like being disturbed.”

“Forget the cat. What do you want?” 

Darcy thought about amusing herself by seeing what kinds of promises and expensive things she could extract from Tony. She pretended to contemplate over it. “Nothing,” she said, knowing that it would annoy him more than if she’d actually picked something random and extravagant. 

“No, really, what? Shoes? Electronics? Lunch? Name it and it’s yours,” Tony insisted. Darcy knew he wasn’t going to back down now that she’d made it a challenge.

“I don’t want anything, Tony,” she explained calmly. 

He huffed impatiently and started to say something before something in the background interrupted him. “Listen, I have to go, but I’m counting on you to bring you that movie. I owe you. I’ll text you the address.” He hung up before Darcy could get a word in. She stared at her phone for a moment and briefly considered calling Tony back to tell him exactly where he could shove his movie. 

Sighing, she gently lifted Atticus off of her, sat up, and turned off the TV. Tony was probably just going to continuously call until he wore her down. It would save her a headache in the long run, and it wasn’t like Darcy had really exciting plans tonight anyways. 

She figured she could cash in the favor later when she really needed it. 

 

\---

 

Darcy shivered in the cab as the interior lit up momentarily while passing underneath another streetlamp. She was starting to regret the trip, and she made a mental note for next time to make damn sure she knew where the hell she was going before bringing Tony anything. She got a small satisfaction of charging the cab fare on his credit card, but it didn’t last long when she was out of the vehicle and a sudden, cold gust of wind made her curse her lack of foresight to bring a jacket. At least, she was promptly let into the building after pressing the buzzer button. 

When she knocked on the door for 3B, she’d expected to see Tony. Instead, the door swung open to reveal a modern-day Adonis in a checkered button-down. Whatever smartass comeback Darcy had prepared was silenced by the way the shirt stretched across his chest. She must have been staring a bit too long because the guy finally cleared his throat uncomfortably, and asked, “Can I help you?”

She dragged her eyes up to his face. “Uhh, I’m looking for—”

“Steve, what’s taking forever? I’m starving.” Another blonde-haired man appeared and pushed the one who was named Steve out of the way, but then looked crestfallen when he saw Darcy. “You’re not the pizza.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

Steve looked at the second guy and then back to her again. “You’re Darcy?”

“Yeah,” she affirmed, pleased that she had the right place. “Tony asked me to bring this.” She held out the movie to them but neither of the guys made a move to accept it. 

“Do you want to come in?” 

“Uh, no? Thanks,” she said, slightly taken aback by how casual these strangers seemed. “Just dropping this off.”

Steve nudged the guy who smacked his forehead. “Oh, right, sorry. I’m Clint, and this is Steve. We’re not trying to lure you in for nefarious reasons.”

“That sounds a lot like something someone who’s trying to lure me in would say,” she said with a quirk of her eyebrow. 

“No, if we were trying to lure you in, we’d tell you that we have cookies,” Clint defended.

“Do you happen have cookies?” she played along.

“That depends. What kind do you like?”

“Chocolate chip?”

Clint snapped his fingers. “As a matter of fact, we happen to have a fresh batch of chocolate chip in the oven.”

Steve snorted and, turning to Darcy, adopted a more serious tone than his friend. “Tony’s in the bathroom right now, but you came all this way to bring a movie, so you might as well stay and enjoy it with us.” At Darcy’s hesitation, he added, “We have beer, chips, and popcorn. No cookies though.”

“And pizza,” Clint whispered to Steve.

“Right, and there’s pizza on the way,” he amended. 

There was a sudden crash from inside the apartment and she heard someone yell, “Winter, no!” A black cat ran out, weaving expertly between the legs of the men obstructing the doorway. Darcy panicked, dropped the DVD, bent down out to scoop up the animal before it could escape down the hall. She narrowly avoided a swipe as it squirmed and hissed in her arms. Hoping she wasn’t going to lose a finger, she reached up to scratch behind its dark ears, a move that usually had Atticus in a melted puddle. The cat resisted at first, but then it relaxed, and after Darcy worked her way under its chin, it started to purr. 

She got lost in petting the cat until Clint asked in wonder, “How do you do that?” Darcy looked up to see the two men staring at her in disbelief. 

“Lewis, you made it,” Tony exclaimed as he barged past the broad shoulders to appear in the doorway, but then frowned. “Why are you holding the hell-beast?”

“Sorry,” she apologized as she tried to offer the cat back, but Steve took a step back with widened eyes. There was a mew of dissatisfaction when Darcy stopped scratching.

Instead, Tony said, “Well, bring her inside before she decides to pull another prison break.” They all awkwardly shuffled aside to let her pass into the warmly lit apartment. Darcy gave the cat one last scratch before bending over and letting Winter lightly jump down. 

When Darcy straightened up, she realized with a start that someone familiar was watching her. “Bucky?” She hadn’t seen him since her embarrassing verbal diarrhea last week when she’d only meant to be supportive, but sounded like she was coming on to him. 

He cleared his throat, also recovering from his initial shock. “I didn’t expect you,” he said roughly. He was wearing a dark blue Henley that contrasted with the grey-blue of his eyes. Darcy had to mentally shake her head to stop her thoughts from heading too far in that direction. 

“I’m delivering something for Tony,” she clarified quickly. Remembering that she was in her old jeans, she suddenly felt self-conscious but resisted the urge to smooth down her own tangled hair. 

Bucky cast a glance over at Tony who had sidled up to Steve and was currently in the process of lecturing about how the DVD in his hand had spawned a revolutionary generation of anti-hero superheroes in the film industry. “Isn’t it a bit late for you to be working?” Bucky asked.

“Babysitting Stark and his ego doesn’t have regular hours.”

“I hope you’re getting overtime pay.”

“Don’t worry. I charge him double the usual rates or he gets offended.”

A composed woman who had been casually leaning against the wall and watching the whole exchange spoke. “So, you two know each other.” 

“She’s Tony’s new PA. Darcy, this is Natasha,” Bucky answered. 

Darcy could feel Natasha critically examining her before sweeping her gaze back to Bucky, her expression full of veiled meaning that Darcy couldn’t decipher. Bucky threw a warning look back, refusing to back down. “Maybe I should I go,” Darcy said, taking a step back. 

“You just got here,” Clint interjected. He had returned with food, the guest at the door actually being the pizza delivery this time. “I promise we’re usually better socialized.” He threw a questioning glance at Natasha and Bucky. 

“Of course,” Natasha said smoothly, breaking the staring contest. “Stay, please. It’s nice not being the only woman here.” 

Darcy gave a last half-hearted protest, but the mouthwatering smell of pizza called to her, and she let them usher her into the kitchen. Steve went to in search of an extra chair for Darcy while Natasha pulled the plates out of the cabinets. 

Everyone settled in around the small table, and Darcy somehow ended up squashed between Clint and Bucky. They talked and laughed about movies (it was Steve who, according to Tony, had been living under a rock) before the conversation drifted into their careers and jobs. Clint had started narrating an anecdote of how, while he’d been teaching archery, a particular student with terrible aim had almost shot down a magpie. His elbow kept knocking Darcy’s shoulder while he waved his hands around in exaggerated pantomime. She had to shift closer to Bucky until her arm brushed his. At least he wasn’t trying hiding his left, metal arm this time, she noticed. Nonetheless, he still stiffened, but Darcy pretended she hadn’t noticed. 

“Anyways, the bird was okay, but it was absolutely pissed and decided to terrorize everyone who dared to go outside for the next week. I swear, it was like a scene straight out of an Alfred Hitchcock,” Clint concluded while everyone else roared with laughter. 

“What about you? Any stories about work that are worth telling?” Natasha asked Darcy unexpectedly, tipping her head towards Tony after everyone had calmed down. 

“I do have a few stories,” she said with a nervous laugh, “but I’m saving them for either blackmail or to sell to the tabloids. I haven’t decided yet.” She winked at Tony across the table. 

“You’re still technically on probation,” Tony admonished without seriousness while everyone else giggled.

“It must be very busy being Tony’s assistant,” Natasha jumped in. “Probationary or not. Between working during the day and having to run down to Brooklyn in the middle of the night, it must not leave a lot of personal time.”

“It can eat into it,” Darcy admitted. 

“Your… boyfriend doesn’t mind?” she asked offhandedly. 

Bucky, who had a piece of pizza halfway to his mouth, put the slice back down on his plate again. “That’s none of your business, Natasha.” Then, to Darcy, “Ignore her.”

“What? I’m just making small talk,” Natasha said innocently. “I would hate to be keeping Darcy here when someone else might be waiting for her.”

“Natasha,” he growled warning and an odd thrill zipped through Darcy. Apparently, Bucky’s voice was a new and previously undiscovered kink, despite the fact that he was saying another woman’s name. 

“It’s alright,” Darcy said lightly, trying to dispel the tension. “I don’t have a boyfriend, just a cat.” She gave a short laugh. 

Natasha perked up. “Bucky has a cat too, the little fiend with three legs you met earlier.” 

“Oh,” Darcy managed because she wasn’t sure what else to say. At first, she’d though Natasha was trying to subtly warn her to back off, but the comment about the cat confused her. She looked around for help, but Clint and Steve had suddenly found the contents of their plate to be fascinating while Tony was tapping on the screen of his phone and not even pretending he was involved in the discussion. 

Bucky abruptly stood up from the table, the chair scraping loudly against the floor, and everyone else took that to be the cue to start clearing up. That conversation was clearly over. Tony grabbed the DVD from where it was sitting on the kitchen counter and gave them his cocky grin, the one he usually reserved for when he thought he had all the answers. “Trust me. You are all going to thank me later.”

 

\---

 

From the kitchen, Bucky could hear the opening theme of the movie as he scraped the last of the dishes. After everyone had eaten, he’d offered to clean up in the kitchen so that everyone else could start watching. It was a flimsy excuse, but thankfully, no one said anything about it, not even Steve who was usually sensitive to his moods. 

He was still furious with Natasha for her prying questions from earlier. She was trying to play matchmaker and even though she meant well, it didn’t give her permission to meddle. He knew Natasha was going to ask him about Darcy later, and he mentally groaned at being interrogated by her. Not that she really needed answers from him; Natasha likely already figured out everything. There was no hiding from her or, it seemed, Tony who had given him a cryptic look before leaving the kitchen. 

Having Tony instead of Sam tonight threw off the regular rhythm of poker night, but everyone adjusted accordingly. No one catered to Tony’s larger-than-life personality and soon, they were all throwing jabs and jokes back and forth like they’d all known each other for years. The evening had started off with the usual game of poker and casual chatter until Tony found out that Steve had never watched _The Man of Iron_ , a movie so iconic that that most people regarded it on par with _Die Hard_ and _The Terminator._ Tony had treated like it was a personal insult, but Steve had shrugged his pretty, broad shoulders and said he just never got around to it. 

Bucky had expected Tony to talk endlessly about all the reasons Steve needed to watch _The Man of Iron_ , but he hadn’t expected Darcy to show up at the apartment with it. She’d caught him off guard again, much to his embarrassment. 

Despite that, Darcy hadn’t acted any differently towards him, even with his exposed, metal arm. People usually asked questions or openly stared at his arm, and Bucky had come to expect it with a weary resignation, but Darcy hadn’t said anything yet. He wondered how much of it was just politeness and how much was because she knew already, working for Tony and all. 

As if she was summoned by his thoughts, a new voice asked, “Megalomaniac superheroes blowing stuff up not your thing?” Bucky turned to see Darcy hovering in the doorway of the kitchen with a small smile that seemed more nervous than relaxed. 

“Uh,” he said hesitantly because, well, what else was he going to say? That he couldn’t watch action movies anymore? That explosions and gunfire set him off and catatonic flashbacks weren’t fun for anyone?

“Did you want a hand with those dishes?”

Surprised, he nodded, but she was already grabbing a dish towel to dry the clean plates. “Thanks,” he said gruffly. 

The worked quietly and in tandem for a while with only the sound of the running faucet and the background movie dialogue. “Sorry for showing up like this,” she started. “I didn’t realize you were involved with Poker Night too. I didn’t mean to interrupt or stay this long, but that was quality pizza and…” she trailed off. “I’m talking too much again, aren’t I?”

“Not at all,” he said amusedly, ignoring the warmth settling in his chest. “On your resume, next to people skills, right?” he teased, echoing their first conversation.

She shook her head, as if she was unsure to smile or be embarrassed. “Tony has been looking forward to this get-together and I didn’t want it to be ruined because he was missing his super special movie.” She rolled her eyes jokingly.

“Well, he seemed like he was having a great time beating us in poker earlier.”

Darcy stopped for a moment. “Really? He told me he was losing when he called me.” 

He shrugged. “I guess we can add ‘manipulative liar’ to his long list of charming qualities.”

“Right next to ‘textbook narcissism’,” she snorted. 

“Agreed,” smiled Bucky. 

They finished rinsing and drying the rest of the dishes, and Bucky found himself stuck between whether or not to confess that he’d much rather stay out of the living room. He considered sucking up and just watching the movie so he could be in her company for a while longer. Her quips and jokes, like the other times he’d seen her, made him feel a little more like his old self again. He reconsidered again when the booming of an explosion from the other room made him cringe. 

“I think I might have eaten too much,” Darcy said as she put away the last water glasses in the cupboard. “I need to get some fresh air. Do you want to get out of here?” she asked hesitantly. “That is, if Natasha doesn’t mind.”

“Why would Natasha mind?” he asked, perplexed. 

Darcy looked flustered. “Aren’t you two—”

There was another cacophonous crash and Bucky didn’t wait to hear the rest of her answer. “Let’s go,” he said. “I know just the place.”

 

\---

 

In the living room, the occupants sat unmoving, watching the movie until Clint reached up and tried to snag the popcorn from Steve. “So,” Tony began a little too casually, “What do you think?”

Steve shrugged, still angling his body so that Clint couldn’t reach the bowl from where he was half-laying on the floor. “It’s overrated. I get that the disillusioned millionaire builds an iron, robot suit to fight crime and global terrorists, but does he have to be an asshole about it?” 

“No, I wasn’t talking about the movie,” Tony said indignantly. “But, for the record, you have terrible taste and you just lost your turn to pick for movie night. I was talking about,” he paused before whispering exaggeratedly, “those two,” as he gestured wildly in the direction of the kitchen. 

“It’s too early to tell,” Steve responded. “Not that it’s any of our concern.”

“Still, nice job on asking her to go check up on him,” Natasha complimented Clint who beamed.

“Uh, it was my idea to get Lewis to bring the movie,” Tony protested.

Everyone rolled their eyes but didn’t fault Tony for his role. It had been purely coincidence at first. While Bucky had gone to the bathroom, they’d traded innocent comments about Bucky around the table. It hadn’t taken long for to connect Bucky’s latest strange behaviour with Tony’s new personal assistant. 

Something about Darcy had caught Bucky’s attention if she could reduce him to simple sentences (Tony’s words; Steve had never known Bucky to not be charming and smooth, especially when it came to women). Natasha had wanted to meet her Tony had replied with, “Why not tonight?”

Bucky hadn’t caught on when they convinced him that he needed to go buy more snacks so that they could use the opportunity to formulate an actual plan and for Tony to call Darcy with an excuse to get her to come over. After Bucky got back, all that remained was for everyone to play along. (Tony required no acting; he really was upset that Steve hadn’t seen the movie.) It seemed to be working out perfectly… so far. 

“Darcy’s cool,” Clint decided. “We should invite her back next time.”

“With some luck, Bucky will be the one inviting her,” Natasha smirked, stretching out on the couch and taking over the spot Darcy had vacated earlier. 

Everyone quieted when they heard voices and then the opening and closing of the front door. Tony craned his head to check if they were really gone, and then, scowling, pulled out his wallet, took out a $20 bill, and passed it to Natasha. “It’s creepy how you knew that.” 

She shrugged, a little too pleased with her earnings, and turned down the volume that they had been incrementally turning up to keep Bucky out. “They’re probably just going somewhere quieter. It’s a good sign.” 

Steve’s phone chirped with an incoming message. “Uh, Bucky says he and Darcy are going Dum Dum’s Diner,” he said.

“Damn it,” Tony cursed. “Not you too.” He pulled out another bill and held it out to Clint. 

“He liiiiiikes her,” Clint sang, snatching the money. “How long do you think before make it official?”

“Wait,” Tony quickly sobered. “Should I have given them the talk about the dance with no pants? Should I have set a curfew? The whole reason Lewis is here is because of me. She’s my responsibility,” he rambled dramatically. 

“This is Bucky,” reminded Natasha. “He’s still jumpy, and it’ll take at least a month to work through his insecurities before he’s comfortable with anything resembling the idea of dating.”

“No way will it be that long. At the rate things are right now, it’ll only take a week.” Tony said, forgetting his previous, fatherly concerns.

“Make it $100 and you’re on,” Natasha shot back. 

“What about you, Steve?”

Steve looked uncomfortable at the prospect of discussing his best friend’s love life. “I don’t know,” he hedged. “Should we be really taking bets on—”

“Two months,” Clint chimed in, not even flinching at Steve’s look of betrayal.

Their attention eventually strayed back to the movie and it wasn’t until the credits started rolling on the screen that Steve grumbled, “Three weeks.”

While Tony and Natasha snickered, Clint laughed, “Sam is going to so mad he missed Poker Night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **References:**  
>  - _My Cat from Hell_ \- An actual show on the Animal Planet channel.  
> -The line, “I charge him double the usual rates or he gets offended” is modified from a book that I read a long time ago, but I can’t seem to remember what it’s called. If you do recognize it, I am not deliberately stealing from it.  
> \- “…it was like a scene straight out of an Alfred Hitchcock”- refers to the film, _The Birds_ (1963)  
> -The line about Tony’s “textbook narcissism” is taken from Iron Man 2.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **Author’s Note:**
> 
>  
> 
> HELLO LOVELY READERS! I AM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO UPDATE! *waves* 
> 
> Questionnaire time! What do you prefer, as the reader? a) shorter chapters but shorter time between updates b) longer chapters but longer time between updates? 
> 
> I’ve been thinking of possibly shortening chapters so I can update slightly faster, but I haven’t made any decisions about that yet. Plus, still a lot of instability and health issues in my personal life right now that make things unpredictable. 
> 
> Your support and feedback is always appreciated. (AND I WOULD LIKE TO TAKE THIS OPPORTUNITY TO SAY THAT I LOVE YOU ALL!)
> 
> *Edit: I also have a [Tumblr](http://interruptingdinosaur.tumblr.com) now (look at me, joining the cool kids). Come say hi?


	6. Chapter 6

“So, maybe we should let them know where we’re going. You know, just in case they actually miss us,” Darcy called from behind him, and Bucky readjusted his pace. In his haste to get out of the apartment, he’d rudely left Darcy jogging behind him on the street, trying to keep up with him. He stopped abruptly and took a deep breath of the cool, night air, feeling like an idiot. What was he thinking dragging her out here when he was in such an agitated state?

She grinned at him when he turned around. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Actually, there’s no plan. You don’t have to come with me.”

“Oh.” She looked a little hurt, but recovered quickly. “Well, I could go get Natasha, if you want? Or, maybe someone else?”

He shook his head, still confused about why she kept bringing up Natasha. “I don’t need a babysitter following me around.”

“So, do you want me to leave?” she asked hesitantly.

 _No, I want you to stay_ , was the answer that immediately came into his mind, but he felt embarrassed that that he was acting so selfishly. “Look, you’ve been really nice about everything, but you really don’t have to—”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Darcy interrupted, “because I know I don’t _have_ to. I wouldn’t have followed you here if I didn’t _want_ to.”

“You still don’ have to—”

“Stop it. If you’re uncomfortable with having me around, tell me. Don’t sugarcoat it,” she said bluntly.

They stared at each other for a few moments, her expression defiant, and he realized that he was overreacting to the situation, although that was hardly new. “Sorry,” he muttered. Then, taking a deep breath, he confessed, “I needed to get out of there.”

“I know,” she rolled her eyes. “If your shoulders were any tenser, you would have snapped something.”

“I’m fine now, so if you want to go back…” he said, even though the words sounded flat and unconvincing.

“Yeah, I’m going to call bullshit on that one, buddy. You’re not inconveniencing me, so if there’s anything I can do to help, tell me.”

He gave a resigned sigh, partly relieved that she wasn’t going anywhere. However, he noticed Darcy was shivering, and he mentally slapped himself again for not noticing earlier. He was too wrapped up in his own pity party to notice the cold. He would have offered his own jacket, but he’d forgotten it back at the apartment along with his gloves. He didn’t want to turn back for them now.

“Come on,” he said, pulling out his phone to send a quick text to Steve. “Let’s find some place warmer."

Fortunately, Dum Dum’s Diner was only a short walk from the apartment. He could hear Darcy’s teeth chattering the whole way, despite her best efforts to hide it. He didn’t miss her sigh of warmth and relief when they walked through the door.

The interior of the restaurant was a mix of contemporary coziness and nostalgia for a time period long gone. There were cherry red booths that lined the long windows as well as other smaller tables in the middle of the dining area. The long counter and stools gave it the retro feel, but with the combination of warm lighting and more modern fixtures, Dum Dum’s Diner had a more sophisticated atmosphere than what the word ‘diner’ usually evoked.

At this time of night, the dinner rush was over with only a few couples grabbing a late supper. Bucky led Darcy to his usual seat in the far corner of the dining room, the one closest to the kitchen door and where he could face the front door and windows. Dropping in the seat opposite of him, Darcy grabbed the menu that was sitting the middle of the table. “Do you think they have onion rings?”

Bucky tore his attention away from assessing the people at the other tables. He reminded himself that he didn’t need to do that, but it was a habit that was hard to break. “I think so,” he replied. “What happened to being too full?”

“The walk helped,” she said, intently studying the menu. “What’s the cherry pie like?”

“Really good,” he admitted. “You can’t go wrong with anything. Everything here is good.”

The waitress stopped by the table with a grin. “Well, look who’s here! Where’ve you been so long?”

He greeted Angie warmly before asking for his usual cup of coffee. Darcy got a hot chocolate after a few minutes of deliberation. After Angie brought them their drinks she gave him a sly wink, and Bucky mentally groaned at what she was probably going to tell Tim in the kitchen.

It was easy to make the assumption that he and Darcy were on a date, he admitted, and wished he had the foresight to go somewhere else with people who weren’t going to tease him with questions later. The benefit to Dum Dum’s was that the metal arm was old news to the staff; they didn’t stare or linger too long. The diner was always available when Bucky felt restless and needed an escape from the apartment.

“You must be quite the regular,” Darcy commented.

“Dum Dum’s goes way back,” Bucky explained. “His grandfather was the original ‘Dum Dum Dugan’. He opened the diner after the war, and it’s been passed down in the family for years.”

“Wow,” Darcy said, looking impressed. “I guess that explains the all the old-timey pictures.” She nodded to the wall behind the counter that was covered by a myriad of photographs that were taken throughout the years.

“Steve and I used to come here for milkshakes when we were kids,” he nodded. She stared at him for a moment and then, ducking her head, smirked, making him feeling self-conscious. “What?”

“Nothing, just trying to imagine what you and Steve were like as kids.”

He leaned back and considered what she’d said. “Steve was always getting into trouble. I was the one who saved his ass.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t the other way around,” she teased.

“This was also before he hit his growth spurt and had that surgery to fix his weak heart. He used to be about ninety pounds soaking wet. Oh, and if that wasn’t enough, he had a chip on his shoulder and pretty much picked a fight with anything that moved.”

“I’m still having a hard time believing anything you just said.”

He waved a hand to the wall of photos. “Go see for yourself. There’s a picture up there of us from when we were kids.”

She gave him a doubtful look, but got out the booth to go lean over the counter. “Where?” Darcy asked after a moment of searching.

“If you can find it in the next minute, I’ll buy whatever you want off the menu. If you don’t, you’re paying for my coffee.”

She looked back at him with a smirk. “You are so on.”

From where he was, Bucky had a fabulous view of her ass, and if he had fewer scruples, he might have stared longer than he did. Her minute was almost up when she jumped up and down on the spot and pointed. The other people had turned to stare at her, but she ignored them.

“Ha! I found it!” She bent over further and squinted. “Wow, Steve was tiny.”

“I told you,” he said.

She made a _come here_ motion with her arm, probably because she didn’t feel like carrying out the rest of the conversation by shouting at each other across the restaurant. From another table, Angie caught his eye and winked again.

Darcy was oblivious to the exchange and pointed back at the picture when he joined her. “Aw, look at your baby face! You two were so cute.”

He snorted. “I think we’re a bit old to be called ‘cute’ in that picture.”

She squinted again, trying to make out the details from a distance away. Bucky would have told her that Angie probably wouldn’t mind if Darcy slipped across the counter for a closer inspection, but his right arm was pressed against hers, close enough to feel the her warmth.

“How old were you? Steve looks all of ten, but you look a lot older than that.”

“I think we were about fifteen,” he guessed. “We were celebrating Steve not dying.”

Darcy threw him a puzzled glance. “I feel like there’s a whole story there that I’m missing out on.”

“Steve used to get sick a lot, but he caught pneumonia really bad that year. After he got out of the hospital, we ended up here and gorged ourselves on breakfast until we almost threw up.”

“And got your picture taken to commemorate the day?”

“Yeah,” he said with a ghost of a smile, remembering how his life seemed so much less complicated when they were kids. Back then, he could barely wrap his head around the idea that there was a bigger world outside of Brooklyn.

She studied the picture a bit longer without comment, and when they sat back in their booth, the drinks were already waiting for them.

“So, how did Steve win any of his fights when he looked like he could be knocked over by a strong wind?”

Bucky laughed. “He won zero fights, but it didn’t stop him from trying.”

“He reminds me of my aunt’s dog,” she said thoughtfully. “Now, there was Chihuahua with aggression issues.” They both paused to consider the comparison and burst out laughing. Darcy slapped her hands over her mouth to muffle the giggles.

“Please say that to his face next time,” Bucky gasped when he was able to speak.

“Nuh uh. Unlike my aunt’s dog, I can’t lock Steve in the laundry room when he gets too annoying.”

“We don’t have a laundry room, but I’m sure we could lock him somewhere.”

“If he doesn’t break down the door. He looks like he’s strong enough.”

“There’s a Jack Nicholson reference in there, but I’m terrible at impressions.”

“Heeeeere’s Johnny!” Darcy quoted, and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay, at least I’m better than that.”

“Pffft, sure,” she scoffed. “Let’s see yours then.”

Luckily, Bucky was saved when Tim emerged from the kitchen then, wiping his hands on his apron. “Bucky! Angie said you brought someone.”

He introduced Tim to Darcy, but he wasn’t quite sure what to call Darcy. Calling her a “friend” seemed to be presumptuous, given that they’d only met a few times. He didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable by making an assumption about their relationship which was an awkward spot just above “acquaintances” but not quite enough for “friends”.

Luckily, they finished the introductions on their own, but Tim had the same mischievous look that Angie had on her face earlier. “Darcy wants to know about your pies,” Bucky said, hoping it would redirect Tim.

Effectively distracted, Tim puffed up with pride as he began listing the available selection.

“You have flapper pie?” Darcy perked up.

“It’s something new I’m trying.”

“I’ll have that,” she said and Tim beamed at her. As he left, he also shot Bucky a wink which was, apparently, becoming the pattern tonight.

“What’s flapper pie?” he asked.

“It’s custard and cream pie. It’s absolutely amazing, but it’s mostly a Canadian thing, so I only got to have it whenever my family drove across the border to visit my mom’s side of the family.”

“Where are you from,” he asked?

“A small town in Montana. I moved out here a little over a year ago. Before that, I was in Puente Antiguo for a brief internship after I finished at Culver University in Virginia.”

“It sounds like you’ve lived a few different, varied places.”

“They’re all different from home, but I guess that was the appeal.”

“Do you miss it? Home, that is.”

Darcy considered the question for a moment. “I love living in New York, but taking that first step to leave was hard. I do miss it some days though.”

“What made you want to leave?” He was about to sip his coffee, but then realized how nosy he sounded. “You don’t actually have to answer me.”

She laughed but shrugged. “A lot of things, I guess. There wasn’t anything really interesting, which meant that if anything happened at all, everyone and their grandmothers knew about it the next day. Small town gossip, I hated that.”

“I don’t think you have to be in a small town for gossip to get around,” he said thinking of the neighborhood he and Steve grew up in and Mrs. Hodges’ infamous inability to keep any news to herself.

Even now, with Angie and Tim. News of this was going to get back to Steve, and then he would probably tell Natasha, who was probably going to have that self-satisfied smirk on her face for days.

“What about you?” Darcy asked. “I’m assuming from the accent that you’ve lived in Brooklyn most of your life.”

“Born and raised,” he said softly. “Then, I was in Iraq for a few years, but I ended up back here again.”

Darcy nodded and took a sip of her hot chocolate which had cooled down enough to drink without burning her tongue. “Was it a hard decision? Coming back?”

He wasn’t exactly sure how to properly explain all the complications and thought process that led to his decision. “Yes and no. All of my friends and family are here, but at the same time, I wish I could go someplace where I have less of a history, you know? I think I would feel…” he waved his hand, trying to find the right words. “…less like I let everyone down.”

“I know that feeling.”

Bucky sighed. “Anyways, after I got back, I was in in D.C. for my first month, but I was too unstable and Steve convinced me to move back.”

“Well, it seems like you’ve got great friends and a support system.” Then, she joked, “Even if you have to put up with Tony from time to time.”

“I guess I’m lucky,” he said genuinely.

After that, there was a natural lull in the conversation with the quiet clink of dishes and murmurs of other people in the background.

“Have you known about the arm for while?” he asked quietly. There wasn’t any reason to keep pretending or avoiding the conversation anymore.

She took a deep breath. “Just since the last time I saw you. I have access to Tony’s files, and I knew he was working with on a prosthetic arm with a vet, but I didn’t put it all together until I bumped into you again.” Seeing his expression, she added, “If you think it bothers me, it doesn’t. Tony said you have a mixed reaction towards a metal arm, but I think it’s insanely cool.”

He snorted, but silently processed the information. “People stare when they see it,” he explained. “I don’t like the staring.”

“I get it,” she said. “Not everyone likes to be gawked at.” She studied something outside the window and didn’t push the conversation, giving him an opportunity to change the subject.

“Roadside IED,” he offered after a moment. “In case you were wondering how I lost the arm in the first place.”

She gave him a small smile over the mug she was holding. “You didn’t have to tell me.”

“I wanted to,” he said without really know why, just that she felt safe.

Angie stopped by their table with Darcy’s pie, and slid a slice of apple pie to Bucky. “On the house,” she’d said when Bucky tried to explain to her that he hadn’t ordered.

Darcy dug into the custard and cream with relish, moaning in a way that made Bucky’s mind drop into the gutter. “You okay?” Darcy asked when she noticed that Bucky was still frozen and staring at her.

“Fine,” he said in a somewhat strangled tone. He reminded himself that he was still in public.

“Do you want to try some?” She pushed her plate across the table to him. “I haven’t touched this part yet.”

He shook his head, all of this feeling a little more intimate than he was comfortable with. “I’m good, thanks.”

“No, really, you have to taste it. It’s amazing,” she insisted. Her expression was so eager that he felt like he couldn’t say no again. He was well aware that Angie was probably watching like a hawk, ready to report any news back to Tim.

Hesitantly, he cut a small piece off with his fork. It was delicious, as Darcy had promised. It tasted something similar to something Steve’s mom had made for them once, and he felt suddenly wistful as he realized he hadn’t thought of her in a long time. Sarah was always so kind to him and treated him like her second son. It had been a devastating blow when she passed away from aggressive leukemia several years ago.

Darcy was still looking at him expectantly when he returned to reality. “It’s very good,” he said simply, and she beamed at him like he’d given the right answer to a test question.

As they finished their pie slices, their conversation drifted into other areas, discussing and arguing over their interests. As it turned out, their music tastes were completely different (he preferred the classic rock bands of the eighties and nineties; she liked the more contemporary folk music that dominated today’s indie music scene), but at least they agreed on movies ( _Inception_ was amazing, and the latest _James Bond_ movie was overrated).

They were the last to leave the diner, trying to delay the inevitable return to the biting cold, but eventually they relented and let Angie close up even though she’d insisted that they could stay for longer.

They shivered as they stepped outside. “Well, thanks for the not-date date,” Darcy said teasingly.

Bucky tucked his hands in the pocket of his jeans. “I should be thanking you,” he said quietly, but Darcy quirked an eyebrow.

Bucky wasn’t sure how to say goodbye without it sounding too abrupt, but fortunately, she seemed to understand.

“I guess this is goodnight,” she said.

“Yeah,” he replied simply

Darcy had a smile hovering in the corner of her mouth that Bucky hadn’t stopped staring at while they both stood on sidewalk. He could feel the mood shift, and he took an involuntary step forward. He wanted to say something, but the words got stuck in his throat as he realized he was holding his breath.

As if drawn together by an inexplicable gravity, they started to drift closer to each other.

 

\---

 

The upbeat tune of Darcy’ ringtone saved her from making the massive, idiotic mistake she was about to commit. Pulling back, Bucky blinked at her owlishly as if he felt as conflicted and confused as her.

Tamping down her traitorous feelings of disappointment, she silently yelled at herself for her own stupidity and reminded herself that he was already someone else’s boyfriend. It had been a bad idea to go into that kitchen, to invite him out of the apartment, everything. But, some part of her just wanted to be closer to him, even if it was on friendly terms.

Pulling out her phone, she greeted Jane with an over-enthusiastic greeting to try and hide just how flustered she really felt. Bucky had half-turned and taken a few steps in the opposite direction to give her some semblance of privacy.

“Darcy, something’s wrong,” Jane said in a panicked voice. She began to ramble while Darcy was still trying to understand what she was trying to tell her. “I came home from the lab to shower and change my clothes, and I still need to go back tonight because I’ve been trying to get all this data processed—”

“Woah! Slow down. I can barely understand a word you’re saying. Did one of the interns spill coffee on your notes again?”

“Atticus was acting really strange. I took him to the animal hospital,” Jane cried, finally getting to the point. “Dr. Selvig says that he’ll need to do an emergency procedure tonight.”

Darcy felt herself freeze as fear washed over her. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” After she hung, Bucky looked at her questioningly, probably at the darkened expression on her face.

“Is something wrong?” he asked astutely.

“I—I need to go,” she managed weakly.

Thankfully, Bucky didn’t press the issue further, but he did get her a cab, which she was grateful for. However, when he unexpectedly slid into the seat next to her, she stared at him for a moment. Not being able to find the words to tell him to leave because she was about to cry, she didn’t say anything at all.

After giving the address to the driver, Darcy kept her head carefully turned towards the window, struggling to get a grip on herself. It was ridiculous, she tried to tell herself, to get so worked up over a cat, but she knew better than that. Atticus was so much more than just an animal. He was a friend and constant companion that never criticized her when she made mistakes. He was always there, a warm presence to remind her that she wasn’t so alone.

Darcy let out an uncontrolled sob, tired of holding it in as it stung the back of throat. From across the seat, she felt a cool hand touch hers tentatively at first, and when she didn’t react, Bucky grasped tighter. She looked at him in surprise, but his face was inscrutably blank in the dimness.

“It’ll be okay,” he promised, even though he still had no idea of what was going on.

“My cat is sick,” she blurted. He didn’t judge or withdraw his hand, only nodding like he understood the depth of emotion behind those words. “He’s been with me since I left home.”

“It’ll be okay,” he said again.

“You don’t know that.”

“Sometimes, you have to keep telling yourself that things are okay, even if they’re not, just to be able to survive it.” He whispered it haltingly with the implication of experience.

Taking a deep breath, she wiped the tears from her face. The churning anxiety in her stomach continued while the unease burned her alive, but maybe if she kept focusing on those words, they would come true. “Thank you.”

“What’s his name?” he asked a moment later.

“Atticus.”

“Like that one book?”

“ _To Kill a Mockingbird_ , yeah. I read it in high school, and even though I didn’t really fully understand or appreciate the themes in there, Atticus Finch was just so–” Darcy tried to find the right words. “He was this guy who stood up for something even when the whole town was against him. That appealed to me, I guess.”

“Well, it’s a better reason than why I named my cat ‘Winter’.”

“Why did you name her that?”

“The simple answer of it is that you wouldn’t expected a black cat to be named ‘Winter’.”

“What’s the complicated answer then?”

“My grandparents used to have this saying that if they could survive winter in Russia, then they could survive anything. I guess, in my head, I thought that if I could take care of something, after everything that has happened to me, then I’m making process and I can survive anything else life throws at me.” Bucky ducked his head, threading his metal hand through his hair sheepishly. “So, if I can survive Winter, I can survive anything. It’s really naïve, but it keeps me going, some days.”

Darcy cracked a small smile. “I like that,” she whispered softly. “There’s a whole history in a single name.”

He gave a quick squeeze of his hand in reply and Darcy felt her heart jump in her chest.

The rest of the ride was thankfully short as they arrived at the animal hospital. Jane was sitting in the small waiting room that was decorated with stock images of happy, smiling animals. Darcy flung her arms around her best friend and squeezed her eyes shut.

“Is he going to be alright?” Darcy asked even though she was afraid of the answer.

“He’ll be fine,” Jane reassured. “He’s in surgery right now. I got him in just in time. I didn’t mean to worry you when I called you.”

“What happened?”

“He was throwing up all over the place and he wouldn’t let me touch him. Dr. Selvig said it was bowel obstruction.”

She was slightly relieved that he wasn’t going to die, Darcy cursed her stupid cat. Atticus wasn’t the brightest bulb, and he sometimes got himself into things he shouldn’t be. Still, as dumb as he was, he made up for it in friendliness and affection.

Remembering that Bucky was there, Darcy motioned for him to come closer, feeling self-conscious for how rude she’d been by ignoring him. She introduced the two of them, and Jane’s eyebrows shot up. She looked at Darcy with a mixture of pride and inquisitiveness, as if to say _how come you never mentioned him to me before now?_

“Anyways, it might be another hour before Dr. Selvig is done. One of the technicians will probably be out in ten minutes.” Jane tried to check her watch surreptitiously.

“It’s alright if you go,” Darcy said.

“I don’t have to go yet,” Jane protested even though she did really want to get back to the lab. Jane was a scientist down to her very core.

“I’m fine now, so it’s okay to go now. I know you're dying to get back to your science. Thank you for everything tonight, Jane.”

"Well, if you're really sure," she said, still a bit hesitant. "But promise to call me if you need anything."

After Jane left, Darcy tried to also release Bucky from his social obligation to stay with her, but he was insistent in being there, and she didn’t push too hard. She felt a rush of gratitude for his presence.

At some point, someone came to update Darcy and had her fill in some forms, but other than that, they were alone. The cramped waiting room grew tense as Darcy and Bucky sat in silence. Neither of them mentioned the hand-holding in the taxi, but it lingered in the back of her mind.

The exhaustion from the entire day seemed to crash over Darcy as she fought a losing battle to keep her eyes open. The next thing she knew, someone was gently shaking her shoulder awake. She realized, with no small amount of mortification, that she’d fallen asleep on Bucky’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

“S’okay,” he shrugged.

She hated how much she wanted to rest her head against his chest again, especially now that she knew he smelled amazing, a musky hint of something masculine and clean laundry. It was lucky she hadn’t drooled on him.

Dr. Selvig had come out to personally let Darcy know what had happened. The laparotomy was successful; Atticus was going to live. It turned out he’d somehow gotten into and eaten several elastic bands even though Darcy always hid them because she was afraid something like this would happen. Atticus was going to have to stay overnight so that they could stabilize him and give him some more intravenous fluids. She could come back for him tomorrow afternoon.

After paying the costly bill, she finally realized just how late it was and that Bucky had been with her the whole time. She stumbled when she was leaving the animal hospital, but he was there to steady her. His hands burned through the fabric of sweatshirt even long after he’d let go of her.

“Thank you,” she said to him for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. She meant it, even if he did test her self-control. Everything he did and said to Darcy tonight made her feel like she was teetering on the edge of some emotional cliff. It would be unwise to fall for someone who already had a girlfriend as beautiful as Natasha, Darcy reminded herself.

They called another taxi, and this time, Darcy made it clear that she would be getting into this one alone.

“I should make sure you get home safe,” Bucky protested when she said goodbye to him. He was a gentleman, and while Darcy would have normally taken advantage of the situation to spend more time with him, she was too worn out to work out her tangled mess of emotions anymore tonight.

  
“I’ll be safe,” she guaranteed. “You’ve already done so much for me, but you should go home now too.”

He seemed reluctant to let her go, but eventually, he did. She felt relieved and regretful at the same time, both emotions warring in her. 

As the cab pulled away from the curb, Darcy slumped against the seat and resisted the urge to turn back to look at him one last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *checks last update date* *winces* Ooh, I am so sorry that this took so long. Thank you for being so patient and staying with me. :)
> 
> Please have some kitty hugs.  
>   
> 
> 
>  
> 
> As always, comments and feedback are appreciated. 
> 
> I also joined the cool kids and I have a [tumblr](http://chrisevansleftboob.tumblr.com) now. Come and say hi, if you'd like.


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